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STORIES   OF 
THE   SEA 


STORIES   FROM   SCRIBNER 

i 
STORIES   OF 

THE   SEA 


NEW  YORK 

CHARLES    SCRIBNER'S   SONS 
1893 


Copyright,  189),  by 
Charles  Scribner's  Sons 


Trow  Print 


STORIES  OF  THE  SEA 


THE  PORT  OF  MISSING  SHIPS 
BY  JOHN  R.  SPEARS 

THE  FATE  OF  THE  GEORGIANA 
BY  MARIA  BLUNT 

CAPTAIN  BLACK 
BY  CHARLES  E.  CARRYL 

THE  LAST  SLAVE  SHIP 
BY  GEORGE  HOWE,  M.D. 


THE  PORT  OF  MISSING 
SHIPS 

BY  JOHN  R.  SPEARS 


THE  big  sky-sail  clipper  ship  Governor 
George  T.  Oglesby,  of  Bath,  lay  beside 
the  pier  at  the  foot  of  Wall  Street,  almost 
loaded  with  a  miscellaneous  cargo  for 
Portland,  Oregon.  A  line  of  trucks  with 
goods  for  the  big  ship  reached  from  the 
ship's  gangway  across  South  Street  and 
nearly  half  way  up  to  Front  Street.  The 
engineer  in  the  little  coop  that  covered 


12  STORIES   OF   THE   SEA 

the  hoisting  engine  on  the  pier  was  red 
in  the  face  from  his  extra  exertions  with 
throttle  and  coal -shovel,  for  the  stevedore 
up  on  the  ship's  rail  was  making  things 
jump,  in  the  hopes  of  completing  the  car- 
go before  six  o'clock  that  night.  The 
'longshoremen  on  the  pier,  about  the 
deck,  and  in  the  hold  of  the  ship  worked 
with  unwonted  zeal,  while  the  ship's  mate, 
having  set  a  young  man  from  the  agent's 
office  to  checking  off  the  goods  that  were 
hoisted  from  the  pier  to  the  tune  of  the 
stevedore's  whistle,  was  trying  to  see  how 
near  he  could  come  to  standing  in  two 
parts  of  the  ship  at  once  without  splitting 
himself,  and  at  the  same  time  keep  his 
two  eyes  aloft  on  the  riggers  at  work  on 
all  three  masts.  The  riggers  were  stretch- 
ing the  sails,  fresh  from  an  overhauling  in 
the  sail-loft,  along  the  yards  and  making 
them  fast  there,  and  the  mate  was  taking 
his  oath  that  he  "  never  see  such  a  gang 
of  lubbers  as  them  riggers,"  and  offering 


THE    PORT    OF   MISSING    SHIPS          13 

to  bet  his  soul  against  a  worn-out  chew  of 
tobacco  that  the  first  capful  of  wind  that 
struck  the  ship  would  strip  the  canvas  off 
her,  fore  and  aft.  The  ship's  master, 
Captain  Walter  W.  Allen,  of  Newbury- 
port,  was  not  in  sight,  having  gone  to  the 
office  of  the  agents  to  settle  some  accounts 
and  sign  the  papers,  but  what  with  the 
moving  of  the  trucks,  under  the  shouts  of 
noisy  truckmen,  and  the  hoisting  of  the 
cargo,  with  the  noise  of  whistle  and  steam- 
engine,  and  the  hoisting  and  stretching  of 
sails  to  the  orders  of  mate  and  riggers, 
there  was  no  end  of  animation  about  the 
Governor  George  T.  Oglesby ;  a  lands- 
man would  have  said  there  was  a  babel  of 
confusion,  but  to  the  eye  of  the  sailorman 
everything  was  working  with  a  smoothness 
and  regularity  seldom  to  be  found  under 
like  circumstances  except  on  the  deck  of 
a  Yankee  clipper. 

Just  after  three  o'clock — six  bells,  the 
stevedore  called  the  hour — when  the  stir 


14  STORIES   OF   THE   SEA 

and  noise,  as  he  would  have  said,  had 
reached  flood  tide,  there  was  a  splash  in 
the  water  alongside  the  big  clipper.  Half 
a  dozen  loungers  on  the  next  pier,  on  the 
south  side,  became  suddenly  animated 
with  the  appearance  of  life,  and  hurried 
to  the  string-piece,  over  which  they  leaned 
and  pointed  excitedly  toward  something 
that  was  struggling  and  splashing  about 
in  the  water. 

"  It's  a  woman,"  said  one,  excitedly  ; 
"  I  see  her  har." 

"  What's  yer  givin'  us?  It's  the  dog 
off  n  the  Guv'ner  Ojelsby,"  said  another. 

"Yer  a  stuff;  it's  a  man.  Why  in  hell 
don't  some  of  yous  run  for  a  cop  ?"  said  a 
third. 

Nobody  ran,  but  every  one  knew  just 
what  was  the  matter  and  what  some  one 
else  ought  to  do.  There  was  a  man 
drowning  in  the  water  close  alongside  the 
big  black  hull ;  that  was  plain  enough. 
One  big,  dirty  hand  was  clawing  at  the 


THE   PORT   OF   MISSING    SHIPS         15 

smooth  copper  in  a  vain  effort  to  reach  up 
so  that  the  ends  of  the  fingers  could  catch 
in  the  seam  between  two  of  the  wooden 
planks.  Although  unable  to  reach  the 
seam,  the  efforts,  somehow,  kept  the  man 
from  going  under  for  good,  but  he  was 
fast  getting  weaker  when  the  mate  of  the 
big  ship  heard  enough  of  the  disturbance 
on  the  adjoining  pier  to  cause  him  to  give, 
one  impatient  glance  in  that  direction. 
That  glance  was  enough.  To  his  eye  it 
was  plain  that  some  one  was  overboard  ; 
nothing  else  ever  excites  the  dock  loun- 
gers enough  to  make  them  gather  excit- 
edly together  at  the  string-piece  of  the 
pier.  Grasping  a  coil  of  rope  that  hung 
on  a  belaying  pin  under  the  main  rigging, 
he  gave  it  a  throw  that  sent  it  flying,  lariat 
fashion,  out  over  the  water.  As  the  end 
whizzed  down  he  climbed  over  the  rail  and 
in  a  moment  more  was  up  to  his  waist  in 
the  water,  clinging  to  the  rope  with  one 
hand  and  holding  the  drowning  man's 


16  STORIES   OF   THE  SEA 

head  by  the  hair  above  water.  Finding 
the  man  docile,  the  mate  supported  him 
by  twining  his  legs  under  his  arms  and 
then  made  the  loose  end  of  the  rope  fast 
to  him  and  bawled  to  the  men  on  deck  to 
•"hist  away,  keerful  like,"  which  was  done. 
The  mate  himself  scrambled  up  hand 
over  fist  and  lent  a  hand,  as  he  said,  in 
getting  the  man  on  deck,  where  he  was 
soon  stretched  out  in  the  sun.  The  ship's 
boy  was  sent  to  ask  a  policeman  to  call 
an  ambulance,  while  the  mate  tore  the 
man's  shirt  open,  wiped  his  face,  neck, 
and  chest  dry  with  a  towel  and  then, 
.  finding  that  he  breathed  regularly,  poured 
a  liberal  dose  of  whiskey,  which  the  ship's 
steward  had  brought  from  the  cabin  with 
the  towel,  down  the  man's  throat,  "jest  to 
take  the  wire  edge  off  the  salt  water  he's 
been  a  swallerin',"  as  he  said. 

Under  this  treatment  the  man  revived 
quite  a  little,  but  he  "  was  loony  yet,"  as 
the  mate  said  afterward. 


THE   PORT  OF   MISSING   SHIPS         17 

"  Did  they  both  sink  ?  "  asked  the  man. 

"Was  there  more  on  ye?"  said  the 
mate. 

"Aye.  Did  the  collision  sink  ither 
vessel?  " 

"  What  ye  givin'  us  ?  "  The  man  looked 
around  as  if  bewildered  and  then  said  : 

"  I  say,  matey,  what  ship  is  this  ?  " 

"  The  Governor  George  T.  Oglesby,  of 
Bath,"  said  the  mate. 

"I  seed  she  was  a  Yankee,"  said  the 
man,  glancing  with  admiring  eyes  aloft 
Then  he  noticed  the  riggers  and  the 
tackle  by  which  the  cargo  was  hoisted 
in.  He  looked  perplexed  at  this. 

"Did  ye  have  to  jettison  the  cargo? 
Carried  away  every  rag,  eh,  matey? 
Bendin'  on  new  sails,  eh  ?  " 

The  mate  looked  puzzled.  "What 
ever  is  he  talking  about  ?  "  he  said. 

"  What  did  ye  make  yer  longitude,  to- 
day ? "  continued  the  man.  The  mate 
turned  to  the  stevedore  and  said : 


18  STORIES   OF   THE   SEA 

"He  thinks  he's  at  sea.  Crazy  as  a 
loon. " 

Just  then  the  pilot  of  a  Wall  Street 
ferry-boat,  starting  to  leave  the  adjoin- 
ing slip,  blew  a  long  blast  on  the  steam 
whistle.  The  man  raised  himself  on  one 
elbow,  looked  off  over  the  bow  of  the  ship 
where  the  end  of  the  jib-boom  seemed 
about  to  poke  itself  into  the  second 
story  window  of  a  red  brick  building, 
looked  at  the  long  row  of  old-fashioned 
buildings  to  the  south,  and  then  at  the 
endless  number  of  spars  that  towered  at 
the  adjoining  piers. 

"  God,"  he  said,  "  this  is  New  York. 
How  in did  I  get  here  ?  " 

Then  he  fainted  away.  The  mate, 
thinking  he  bad  died,  had  him  carried 
aft  and  laid  out  beside  the  wheel-house 
and  covering  him  with  a  tarpaulin  left 
him  there  to  await  the  arrival  of  the 
ambulance. 

An  hour  and  a  quarter  later  the  am- 


THE   PORT   OF   MISSING   SHIPS         19 

bulance  with  much  clanging  of  the  gong 
worked  its  way  through  the  trucks  on  the 
pier  and  stopped  at  the  gangway  ladder. 
The  ship's  boy  had  found  a  policeman 
around  in  Water  Street  talking  to  a 
young  woman  who  was  selling  early  edi- 
tions of  evening  papers  to  down-town 
merchants.  The  policeman,  after  hearing 
what  the  boy  had  to  say,  had  walked 
down  to  the  pier,  where  he  hailed  the 
stevedore.  , 

"  Is  it  all  roight  about  th"  ambylince  ?  " 
he  said. 

"  Yis,"  said  the  stevedore.  Then  the 
policeman  walked  hastily  to  the  Old  Slip 
station,  where  the  sergeant,  after  hearing 
the  facts  repeated  twice,  telegraphed  for 
the  Chambers  Street  ambulance. 

Walking  up  the  inclined  ladder  to  the 
ship's  rail  the  surgeon  met  the  mate,  who 
said  that  the  patient  was  dead.  The  sur- 
geon was  about  to  return  to  the  hospital, 
at  this,  and  notify  the  keeper  of  the 


STORIES   OF   THE   SEA 


morgue,  but  concluded  to  examine  the 
patient  to  see  whether  he  really  was  dead, 
and  on  laying  his  hand  over  the  man's 
heart  found  it  still  beating. 

Among  the  flotsam  and  jetsam  of  the 
street  that  had  swirled  in  behind  the  am- 
bulance as  it  headed  out  on  the  pier  were 
The.  Kelly,  the  keeper  of  a  sailor's  board- 
ing-house in  Peck  Slip,  and  a  Sifter  of 
Rumors.  Kelly  looked  at  the  face  of  the 
half-drowned  sailor  in  a  queer  way  for  a 
moment  and  then  said  hastily  to  the  * 
surgeon : 

"  It's  Jack  Servenmalet,  surgeon.  He's 
a  frind  o'  moine,  and  ef  yous  can  pull  'im 
through  Oi'll  take  im." 

The  surgeon  thought  he  could  pull  him 
through,  and  the  man  was  accordingly 
bundled  into  the  ambulance  and  carried 
to  Kelly's  house.  As  the  vehicle  left  the 
pier  Kelly  turned  to  the  Sifter  of  Rumors 
and  said : 

"  It's  Jack  Servenmalet  as  was  wint  last 


THE   PORT   OF  MISSING  SHIPS        21 

out  of  this  port  as  carpenter  into  the 
Nucleus,  Captain  McDonald,  for  Rio, 
and  she  given  up  for  lost  and  the  in- 
surance paid  on  ship  and  cargo  more  nor 
a  year  agone.  How'd  he  git  here  ?  Will 
yez  tell  me  that,  now  ?  " 

That  was  a  question  no  one  about  the 
ship  could  answer.  The  mate  of  the  big 
ship,  the  men  about  her  deck,  the  loung- 
ers on  the  adjoining  pier  were  all  ques- 
tioned, but  not  one  of  them  had  seen  him 
before  Spook  Maguire,  one  of  the  loung- 
ers, so  called  because  of  his  affection  for 
the  mysterious,  saw  him  struggling  to  get 
his  fingers  into  the  seams  between  the 
planks  near  the  water-line  of  the  big 
clipper. 

The  Sifter  of  Rumors  followed  the  am- 
bulance to  Kelly's  place  along  with  the 
usual  riffraff  that  forms  the  wake  of  these 
vehicles  as  they  plough  their  way  about 
the  streets  of  New  York.  Kelly's  place 
was  a  four-story  brick  building,  painted 


22  STORIES   OF   THE   SEA 

yellow,  with  a  cheerful  saloon  in  the  base- 
ment and  a  barren  sitting-room  on  the 
first  floor  front.  Above  this  the  floors 
were  cut  up  into  little  rooms  with  two 
beds  in  each  of  them,  except  those  at  the 
front  ends  of  the  halls,  which  had  but  one 
bed  each.  These  were  for  the  use  of  the 
mates  and  captains  who  sometimes  pat- 
ronized Kelly. 

Into  one  of  these  hall-rooms  Jack  was 
carried  and  there  cared  for  by  the  sur- 
geon. The.  Kelly  and  the  Sifter  of  Ru- 
mors helped  to  remove  the  man's  cloth- 
ing and  rubbed  him  with  dry  cloths  and 
did  such  other  things  as  are  commonly 
done  for  the  partly  drowned.  After  a 
while  Jack  opened  his  eyes,  and  the  sur- 
geon gave  him  a  stimulant  of  some  kind 
that  still  further  revived  him.  After  look- 
ing at  each  of  the  three  men  present 
severely,  he  recognized  Kelly. 

"  It's  all  straight  and  reg'lar,"  he  asked, 
"  about  this  bein'  New  York?  " 


THE   PORT   OF   MISSING   SHIPS        23 

"  Yis,  hyar  y'  are,  Jack,"  said  Kelly. 
"  What  Oi'm  wantin"  to  ax  yez  is,  how'd 
yez  git  hyar,  and  whar  yez  might  av  left 
the  Nucleus  ?  " 

"Aye,  the  Nucleus,"  said  Jack,  in  a  low 
voice,  with  his  eyes  on  the  ceiling  as  if 
he  were  looking  through  it  to  something  a 
good  ways  beyond.  "  She's  in  port,  The.; 
I  don't  understand  it,  but  I'd  a  been  there 
now  ef  I  had  kept  my  eye  on  the  Atlantic 
steamship  when  we  bumped  up  alongside 
of  her.  I  was  picking  a  rope  yarn  as  was 
dangling  about  on  the  spanker  boom, 
ontidy  as  a  cobweb  in  a  parlor,  when  her 
guard  rail  struck  us  on  the  stabbord  quar- 
ter, and  the  shock  threw  me  into  the 
water.  While  I  was  floundering  about 
some  one  grabbed  me  by  the  hair,  and 
the  next  I  knew  I  was  on  the  deck  of 
that  'ere  big  clipper  at  the  foot  of  Wall 
Street." 

"He's  wandering  yet,"  said  the  sur- 
geon to  Kelly.  "  The  Atlantic,  you  know, 


24  STORIES   OF   THE   SEA 

was  the  big  steam  packet  that  sailed  for 
Liverpool  some  time  in  the  fifties  and  was 
never  heard  of  again.  There  were  sev- 
eral hundred  passengers  on  her." 

"Aye,"  said  Jack.  "The  deck  was 
covered  with  'em,  but  I  was  under  water 
and  out  agin  that  suddin  I  don't  know 
whether  she  lowered  a  boat  or  not." 

"  Tell  us  all  about  it,  '  said  the  sur- 
geon, whose  curiosity  happened  just  then 
to  be  stronger  than  his  professional  zeal. 

"  Give  it  to  us  straight,  Jack,"  added 
Kelly.  "Take  yer  deparcher  from  the 
Hook,  see?  Did  Spencer  thump  all 
hands  before  yez  dropped  the  Neversink 
as  Oi  promised  yez  ?  " 

"  Aye,"  said  Jack,  rallying,  at  the 
thought,  "  Spencer  was  as  handy  with  his 
daddies  as  any  mate  I  was  ever  ship- 
mates with,  and  he  didn't  limit  himself  in 
nowise  in  the  matter  o1  implements  for  the 
crackin'  of  a  sailorman  on  the  nut.  Bein' 
somewhat  quicker  on  my  pins  than  the 


26  STORIES   OF  THE   SEA 

most  of  'em,  ef  I  do  say  it,  I  didn't  get 
my  sheer  of  the  hard  knocks,  but  don't 
none  of  you  go  to  thinkin'  he  was  that 
partial  as  to  neglect  me  altogether.  It 
was  a  heap  more  knocks  nor  doughboys 
for  all  hands. 

"  Hows'ever,  that's  nither  here  nor 
there.  We  had  fair  slants  of  wind  till 
we  be  to  strike  the  no'theast  trades,  some- 
where in  about  21  degrees  of  latitude, 
and  mayhap  32  of  longitude,  and  then  the 
weather  began  to  thicken  and  the  glass 
went  down  ter'ble.  The  wind,  as  had 
been  singin'  sweet  for  a  week  or  more  in 
the  riggin',  begin  for  to  tune  up.  That 
was  during  the  afternoon  watch,  and  we 
on  deck,  somewheres  about  June  21.  The 
watch  be  to  get  in  the  kites  suddin',  see, 
and  then  all  hands  was  turned  to  to  snug 
her  down. 

"  'Twant  no  reg'lar  storm,  d'ye  mind 
that.  The  weather  just  thickened  till 
the  sun  got  the  color  of  a  ghost,  then 


THE   PORT   OF   MISSING  SHIPS        2/ 

went  out  like  a  fog  had  covered  it,  and 
the  wind  increasin'  sure  and  steady  like, 
and  the  waves  rollin'  up  faster  nor  I'm 
tellin'  of  it.  Not  that  we  had  much  time 
for  noticin'  these  things  ;  that  'ere  Spen- 
cer were  right  after  us.  First  he  scattered 
us  about  stowin'  the  flyin'  jib  and  the  fore 
and  mizzen  to'-gallant-s'ls.  Then  he 
bunched  us  into  two  lots  and  driv  one 
on  'em  to  the  main  to'-gallant  and  t'other 
to  brail  the  spanker. 

"  By  the  time  that  was  done  the  wind 
was  boomin'  and  the  rain  comin'  down 
in  solid  chunks  fit  to  knock  a  man  off  the 
yard,  and  things  was  gettin"  lively. 

' '  '  Lower  away  yer  fore  and  mizzen  top- 
sail halyards.  Lay  aft  to  the  main  clew- 
garnets  and  buntlines.  Ease  away  yer 
tack  and  sheet — Made  a  mistake  there, 
eh  ?  Too  much  of  a  hurry,  eh  ? '  Up 
goes  the  old  Nucleus's  stern,  on  a  comber 
as  gripes  her  under  the  weather  quarter 
and  tosses  her  vip  where  the  seffer  as  was 


28  STORIES   OF   THE  SEA 

bowlin'  along  gives  'er  one  for  keeps,  and 
the  next  minute  that  'ere  mainsail  were 
slatted  clean  outen  her  bolt  ropes. 
Swear  ?  You  bet  Knock  the  men  end- 
wise as  let  go  of  the  tack  and  sheet? 
One  on  'em,  The  ;  only  one  on  'em,  fer 
Spencer  hisself  was  at  the  tack. 

"  '  Now  aft  agin  and  get  both  the  miz- 
zen  topsails,'  for  no  man  could  steer  and 
she  a  gripin'  so.  '  Up  you  go  and  furl  that 
upper  topsail.  Now,  down  on  deck  and 
clew  up  the  lower.'  Jump  or  Spencer'll 
lay  yer  head  open.  '  Clewlins  and  bunt- 
lins,  slack  away  to  leeward.  Now  you've 
got  'er.  Ease  off  to  windward. '  Boom  ! 
The  old  ship  rose  on  another  big  comb- 
er, and  away  went  the  upper  main  top- 
sail. 

"  '  Now  git  aloft  and  furl  the  mizzen 
before  it  blows  away,  too.  No  use,  yer 
too  late.'  In  spite  of  yer  clewlins  and  yer 
buntlins,  she  begins  to  slat  out  and  you'd 
better  look  for'ard  a  bit.  For'ard  we 


THE   PORT   OF   MISSING    SHIPS         29 

runs,  chased  by  the  mate  like  a  flock  o' 
sheep  with  a  dog  arter  'em,  and  lucky 
we  did,  for  just  then  one  of  them  com- 
bers as  had  been  chasin'  us  up  catches 
and  walks  over  the  quarter,  sweepin' 
things  clean.  Good  luck  the  man  at 
the  wheel  had  lashed  hisself  fast,  and 
the  captain  were  under  the  weather  rail, 
or  else  both  'ud  gone  overboard  sure. 

"How  long  will  she  stand  that?  Not 
long,  me  b'y.  The  gale's  risin',  and  the 
seas  gettin'  up  stiddy.  Better  lay  'er 
to.  Aye.  We'll  lay  'er  to.  '  Man  the 
jib  down -haul.  That's  well  ;  now  the 
forestaysail.'  Lay  out  there  and  furl 
'em  ?  No.  Too  late  for  that.  The  man 
as  goes  out  there  washes  off.  '  Git  the 
fore-lower  topsail  then,  and  be  quick 
about  it.'  Aye.  We  do  that.  Now  for 
the  foresail',  and  then  we'll  put  the  helm 
down  and  see  her  come  up.  That's  what 
we  think.  We  man  the  strings  again. 
We're  savin"  the  ship  now.  Ease  off 


30  STORIES   OF   THE   SEA 

the  tack  first.  Zip!  zip!  Boom!  We 
didn't  save  no  foresail,  that's  for  sartin. 

"Ha!  she  was  boiling  along  in  a 
smother  of  foam  without  any  canvas  a 
pulling,  but  the  main-lower  topsail,  but 
t'want  no  fun,  ef  we  were  a  headin'  of 
our  course.  '  Git  a  tarpaulin  in  the 
weather  mizzen  riggin"  and  cut  away 
that  flappin'  headgear.'  No.  The  gale 
saves  us  part  of  that  work,  and  makes 
more,  for  a  big  sea  shoves  the  ship's 
nose  under  like  a  rootin1  hog's,  and 
when  she  wallers  up  out  of  it  she  leaves 
'er  jib-boom  behind  in  the  water  and  the 
foreto'-gallant  mast  goes  over  to  stab- 
bord.  Now  we  go  at  it  with  axes  to  clear 
the  stuff  away,  and  then  we're  ready  to 
bring  her  up  to  the  wind. 

"  It's  an  even  chance  that  she  won't 
make  it,  but  if  we  hold  on  as  we  are  we 
are  lost  for  sartin. ' 

"  '  Lay  aft  all.  Haul  in  the  lee  braces 
and  ease  away  to  windward.  That's 


THE   PORT   OF   MISSING   SHIPS         3! 

well ;  belay.  Now  git  yer  tarpaulin  in- 
to the  mizzen-riggin'.  Stand  by,  you  at 
wheel,  and  when  you  git  the  word  jump 
on  'er,  d'ye  hear?  Wait  a  minute,  till 
this  big  'un  clears  us 

"  '  Now  hard  down  !  hard  down  !  Jam 
'er. '  " 

"  '  Aye,  she's  hard  down,  sir.' 

"  Great  Lord,  and  still  she  hangs,  and 
there's  a  tidal  wave  makin'  to  windward  ! 
'  Show  the  peak  of  that  spanker.  Haul 
her  out !  Haul,  you ' 

"Too  late!  Too  late!  The  wave's 
atop  of  us,  even  as  we  git  the  word,  and 
we  be  to  scamper  like  rats  to  git  under 
the  rail  or  wherever  we  could  get  a  line 
to  take  a  turn  around  ourselves  with  and 
cling  for  life  to  it,  and  so  the  wave  sweeps 
slow  across  the  deck,  and  the  screamin' 
o*  that  'ere  storm  and  the  sight  of  it  is 
lost  in  the  roaring  waters  that  presses  us 
down  and  a'  most  crush  the  life  out  of 
us." 


32  STORIES   OF    THE   SEA 

As  he  told  the  story  of  the  gale  the 
sailor  became  more  and  more  flushed 
and  excited  until  he  came  to  tell  how 
they  vainly  tried  to  get  her  head  to  the 
wind.  Here  he  rose  up  in  bed  and  bel- 
lowed the  orders  at  the  top  of  his  voice, 
and  struck  out  with  his  fists  as  if  driving 
obdurate  seamen  before  him.  Then  he 
fell  back,  saying,  "  too  late,"  and  half 
gasped  for  breath  as  he  told  of  the  crush- 
ing weight  of  water  that  bore  down  on  the 
ill-starred  ship. 

This  done,  he  stopped  talking  for  a 
time,  while  the  look  of  anxiety  that  had 
been  on  his  face  slowly  gave  way  to  one 
of  peace.  Closing  his  eyes  for  a  time  he 
opened  them  with  a  smile  on  his  face  and 
went  on  with  his  story. 

"  How  long  we  was  under  that  'ere 
wave  is  more  nor  I  knows,  but  it  seemed 
like  a  trick  at  the  wheel  in  the  mid-watch. 
We  just  hung  on  to  our  lashin's  and  held 
our  breath  till  I  was  ready  to  give  up  that 


THE   PORT   OF   MISSING   SHIPS         33 

the  ship  had  gone  down.  Then  all  onex- 
pected  the  wave  passed  away,  and  the 
Nucleus  was  atop  agin,  but  I  was  that 
beat  out  I  dropped  down  on  the  deck. 

"While  I  was  a  layin'  there  onable  to 
help  myself  and  waiting  for  Spencer  to 
come  along  and  burst  in  my  ribs  with 
the  toe  of  his  boot,  and  order  all  hands 
to  jump  to  that  'ere  outhaul  again,  I  feels 
one  o'  them  catspaws  on  my  face  what  a 
sweetheart  o'  mine  used  to  call  gentle 
seffers.  I  opened  my  eyes  suddint  at 
that  ere,  and  what  d'ye  think?  The 
storm  —  wind,  clouds,  and  the  whole 
smother  of  it — had  passed  away  with 
that  'ere  tidal  wave,  and  there  we  was 
a  rollin'  in  as  pretty  a  seaway  as  ever 
the  trades  kicked  up.  I  never  hear  of 
a  storm,  as  lasted  like  ourn  had,  goin' 
away  that  suddint,  but  there  was  no 
denyin'  what  I  see  with  my  own  eyes 
arter  I'd  rubbed  'em  wery  hard  to  make 
sure  on  'em.  So  I  makes  shift  to  git  on 


34  STORIES    OF    THE   SEA 

my  pins  again,  and  has  a  severe  look 
around  to  see  whar  them  clouds  had 
gone,  and  didn't  see  nothin'  of  'em  no- 
where." 

"Wonderful  change  of  the  weather, 
that,"  remarked  the  surgeon. 

"True  for  it,  sir;  but  strange  things 
be  to  happen  in  them  latitudes,  and  I 
don't  pretend  to  understand  'em  at  all, 
nither,  sir.  Hows'ever,  there  was  the 
ship  with  her  top  hamper  in  a  ter'ble 
mess — we  be  to  understand  that ;  there 
was  the  men  crawlin'  from  their  lashin's 
and  what  not,  as  they'd  been  hangin'  on 
to,  and  nary  a  one  be  to.  lose  the  number 
of  his  mess  ;  there  was  the  officers  and 
the  man  at  the  wheel — all  on  us  more 
nor  less  used  up,  in  course,  but  all  on 
ns  oncommon  well  pleased  to  find  the 
Nucleus  on  top  agin,  and  the  storm 
gone. 

"As  I  was  a  sayin',  though,  sailormen 
on  ships  as  has  had  their  sticks  knocked 


THE   PORT   OF  MISSING   SHIPS 


35 


outen  them  don't  have  no  time  to  go  a 
pherloserphizin'  about  things  they  don't 
know  knothin'  about,  and  you'd  a  lay  yer 
last  dollar  on  that  'ere  ef  you'd  seen 
the  mate  start  for'd  the  moment  he'd 
got  a  bit  over  the  daze  what  the  weight 
o'  the  water  'ud  give  him. 

"  '  Here,  git  up,  y'  lazy  dev — ,'  says  he  ; 
and  then  he  clapped  a  stopper  on  to  that 
'ere,  and  didn't  finish  his  remark,  while 
a  quare  sort  of  a  look  come  over  his  face. 
So  he  swallers  wery  hard  like  suthin'  was 
into  his  throat,  and  heads  away  on  a  dif- 
ferent tack,  some'at. 

"  '  Now,  then,  me  bullies,'  he  says, 
'  clap  on  to  them  fore  and  main  staysail 
halliards  and  snake  'em  up.  Hard  down 
with  yer  wheel  thar,  Jimmie,  and  we'll 
have  her  nose  to  sothard  agin,  eh? '  " 

"  Hold  fast,  Jack,"  said  Kelly.  ' '  Give 
us  the  straight  on  it,  see  ?  D'  ye  mane 
to  soy  them  was  Spencer's  wurrads  ?  " 

"  Aye,  in  course." 


36  STORIES   OF   THE  SEA 

"  Poor  Jack,"  said  The.,  mournfully, 
"and  him  sich  a  fine  mon  in  his  day. 
Would  a  sup  of  ould  rye  help  'im  a  bit 
now,  docther,  do  yez  think  ?  " 

The  doctor,  impatient  at  the  interrup- 
tion, gestured  dissent,  and  Jack,  with  a 
grin  at  The.  's  mournfulness,  continued  : 

"  Done  him  good  to  git  the  life  squeezed 
outen  his  gall,  hey?  That's  what  I 
thought  then,  anyhow.  But  that  'ere's 
nither  here  nor  thar,  for  we  be  to  clap  on 
to  them  halliards,  and  so,  the  helm  bein' 
down  and  the  head  of  her  to  sou'west, 
and  the  wind  easted,  we're  soon  comin' 
to. 

"'How's  her  head?'  says  Spencer, 
when  the  sinkin'  sun  comes  abeam. 

"  '  The  binnacle's  bust,'  the  man  says, 
arter  he  has  a  look  at  the  compass  ;  and 
when  the  captain  and  the  mates  has  a 
look  at  the  binnacle  and  then  at  the  tell- 
tales into  the  cabin  they  find  there's  nary 
a  compass  on  board  but's  bust,  while  even 


THE   PORT   OF  MISSING   SHIPS         37 


the  two  chronommyters  was  stopped  out 
o'  hand  when  the  wave  struck  us.  I  don't 
remember  to  a  ever  hearin'  of  a  ship  git- 
tin'  quite  that  shorthanded  in  the  matter 
o1  navigatin'  implements.  Hows'ever, 
matters  might  a  been  worse,  as  the  cap- 
tain said,  for  any  one  can  steer  to  sothard 
when  he  can  see  the  sun  and  stars  ;  and 
so  arter  a  lookout  were  sent  to  straddle 
the  r'yal  yard  if  so  be  any  other  ship 
might  be  sighted  as  we  could  get  a  com- 
pass of,  as  well  as  the  time  at  Greenwich, 
we  fell  to  makin'  sail  and  repairin'  dam- 
ages. 

"  I  don't  need  to  go  spinnin'  to  you 
about  that  ere,  only  I  make  bold  to  say 
that  when  me  an'  the  second  mate  got 
the  new  jib-boom  ready  for  to  be  shipped 
at  the  end  o'  the  mid-watch  arter  eight 
hours'  work,  there  didn't  never  nobody 
see  a  dandier  one  nor  it." 

"  But  what  about  your  meals  all  this 
time  ?  "  asked  the  Sifter  of  Rumors. 


38  STORIES   OF   THE  SEA 

"Ay,  the  grub.  We  didn't  even  have 
a  biscuit.  Forgot  it  clean,  from  feeling 
that  oncommon  good  over  our  narrer  es- 
cape, I  reckon,  and  bein'  all  took  up  with 
gettin'  of  her  to  rights.  Jim  McCaig,  the 
doctor,  in  course  he  goes  ahead  and  gits 
supper  ready,  but  when  he  were  ready  to 
sarve  it  the  old  man  says : 

"  '  Avast !  whatever  is  the  use  o'  bother- 
in'  and  interferin'  with  men  as  is  enjoyin' 
of  themselves  ?  '  and  Jim,  he  says,  '  True 
for  it,  sir,  whatever  is  it  ? '  and  so  there 
didn't  no  supper  git  sarved.  But  when 
Captain  McDonald  see  that  "ere  jib-boom 
me  an'  the  second  mate  had  blocked  out, 
he  wanted  ter  do  suthin1,  I  reckon,  as  'ud 
show  us  he  sot  a  vally  on  our  work. 

"  '  Gentlemen,'  he  says,  '  that's  the 
fashion'blest  stick  I  ever  see.  Why,  any 
heathen  cannyble  in  the  middle  o"  Africa 
as  never  see  a  ship  'ud  know  what  it  were  ; 
but  afore  we  ship  it  I'm  a  thinkin'  we'll 
pipe  to  breakfast,'  an'  we  did.  We  hadn't 


THE   PORT   OF   MISSING   SHIPS         39 

had  it  a  weighin1  on  our  minds  afore,  but 
when  we  gits  our  messkids  full  we  was 
sharp  set  and  no  better  stores  was  ever 
sarved  aboard  ship." 

"  Must  'av  served  cabin  grub  to  yous 
gintlemen"  said  Kelly  with  marked  em- 
phasis. He  had  snorted  at  Jack's  use  of 
the  word  "gentlemen." 

"  I  don't  dispute  y',  The.,"  said  Jack, 
in  a  helpless  sort  of  a  way.  ' '  Things 
never  was  the  same  arter  that  'ere  wave 
swept  over  us.  I  hain't  got  no  learnin', 
The.,  and  can't  give  no  whys  nor  why- 
fors." 

"  How  far  did  you  find  you'd  sailed  and 
drifted  during  the  storm  ?  "  asked  the 
Sifter  of  Rumors. 

"  Ay,  the  latitude  and  longitude.  'Twar 
a  lettle  cur'us,  now  I  think  on  it,  though 
nobody  didn't  hold  no  convention  in  the 
lee  of  the  galley  for  to  consider  it  then. 
When  the  old  man  found  his  chronommy- 
ters  was  bust  he  says,  and  he  says  it  quite 


40  STORIES    OF    THE   SEA 

solemn :  '  We  be  to  sail  by  dead  reckon- 
in". ' 

"  We  hove  the  log  as  soon  as  ever  we 
got  all  plain  sail  onto  her  and  she  were  a 
reelin'  off  eight  knots,  and  from  that  'ere 
time  we  never  teched  glass  nor  reel. 

"  Arter  breakfast,  see,  which  it  were 
arly  and  afore  seven  bells,  the  old  man 
said  for  to  call  the  watch  and  the  rest  turn 
in,  which  we  weren't  expectin'  nor  axin' 
for,  seein'  we  was  feelin'  all  right  and  all 
that  'ere  work  to  do,  and  so  I  makes  bold 
to  say  as  we  was  ready  to  turn  to.  But 
the  captain  he  says  stow  that  'ere,  for 
'taint  square  for  no  man  to  do  no  more 
nor  he  signed  articles  for,  and  so  we  turns 
in.  As  for  me,  I  no  sooner  lost  my  reck- 
onin'  in  my  bunk  nor  I  went  off  dream- 
in'  I  was  carpenter  an'  cooper  aboard  a 
whalin'  vessel.  Hows'ever  that's  nither 
here  nor  thar,  only  I  be  to  dream  the  stuff 
every  watch  below. 

"  As  I  was  a  sayin',  so  soon  as  ever  we 


THE   PORT   OF  MISSING   SHIPS         4! 

gits  the  new  spars  on  end  and  the  yards 
crossed  and  the  canvas  bent,  we  turns  to 
and  begins  to  paint  her.  Spencer  he  ex- 
plains that  this  'ere  breeze  from  eastard 
and  sothard  was  a  liftin'  of  her  across  the 
doldrums,  and  we  be  to  make  port  in 
three  or  four  weeks.  So  we  gits  up  the 
paint  pots,  and  the  second  mate  he  serves 
out  white  lead  and  ile — say,  ye  never  see 
the  likes  of  it ;  none  of  yer  yellerish  fever- 
colored  common  stuff,  mind,  but  a  gen- 
nuin'  white  like  the  smother  under  the 
bows  of  her,  see,  and  we  begins  at  the 
truck  and  we  paints  down,  includin' 
doublin's  of  the  masts  and  the  yards  and 
the  lower  masts  fit  for  a  gentleman's 
yatchet.  Then,  in  course,  we  takes  the 
hull  in  hand  and  done  that  likewise,  and 
what  with  a  runnin"  a  belt  o'  carmine 
around  'er  in  the  wake  o'  the  plankshear, 
and  a  touchin'  up  the  gold  scrolls  under 
her  bowsprit,  and  a  polishin'  of  the  bright 
work,  she  were  gall  us. 


42  STORIES   OF   THE  SEA 

"  Hows'ever,  that  wasn't  all  we  done. 
When  Captain  McDonald  he  comes  for'd 
fer  to  have  a  severe  look  around  and  says 
as  how  we'd  done  him  proud,  we  gives 
him  a  surprise  party  as  was  a  stunner  to 
him,  and  now  I  comes  to  think  on  it,  it 
were  quare.  It  was  as  I  be  to  tell,  but 
how  it  were  and  the  whys  and  the  where- 
fors,  as  The.  may  be  puttin'  in  his  oar  for 
to  ask,  I  can't  say." 

He  stopped  talking  for  a  moment  at 
this,  as  if  considering  "  the  whys  and  the 
whyfors,"  but  continued  shortly. 

"  We  be  for  to  notice  afore  we'd  been 
puttin'  her  to  rights  many  days  that  when 
we  done  anything  it  were  done  to  stay. 
There  didn't  no  bright  work  turn  yeller 
and  green,  nor  no  iron  work  as  was  rubbed 
up  to  sparkle  get  no  rust  on  to  it  no  more  : 
and  no  scrubbin'  of  the  decks  arter  we 
done  it  once,  nor  no  chafin'  gear  wearin' 
out.  So  in  our  trick  below  we  turns  to 
unbeknownst  to  the  captain  and  polishes 


THE   PORT   OF   MISSING  SHIPS        43 


up  the  anchors  till  you'd  a  tuk  yer  dyin1 
oath  they  was  silver  plate  from  shackle 
pin  to  crown,  and  didn't  the  old  man's 
eyes  bung  out  some'at  when  he  see  us 
snatch  the  tarpaulins  off  as  we'd  covered 
'em  up  with  ? 

"  With  that  we  says,  '  Captain,  is  it  the 
standin'  riggin'  next  ?  '  and  he  says,  '  It  be 
and  I'm  with  ye,'  and  what  does  we  do  but 
turn  to  and  polish  them  'ere  shrouds  and 
stays,  every  wire  and  every  inch  on  'em, 
and  the  chain-plates,  until  I  reckon  ef  any 
one  'ud  been  a  steerin'  our  way,  so  as  he 
be  to  get  the  glint  o'  the  sun  on  to  us, 
he'd  a  made  sure  our  top-hamper  was  a 
blazin'  burnin'  offen  us.  Last  of  all,  one 
at  a  time,  we  takes  the  sails  down  on  deck 
and  scrubs  'em  like  snow,  and  when  we 
gits  'em  done  there  we  was,  sailin'  like — 
sailin' " 

The  sailor  stopped  talking  again  and 
lay  perfectly  still,  staring  at  the  blank 
wall,  trying,  perhaps,  to  think  of  words  to 


44  STORIES   OF   THE   SEA 

fitly  describe  the  ship  as  she  then  appeared 
to  him,  but  after  a  moment  he  shook  his 
head  and  continued. 

"  How  long  was  we  doin'  of  it?  Give 
it  up.  All  I  knows  is  I  didn't  care.  It 
were  proper  work  for  a  sailorman  and 
couldn't  last  too  long.  That  'ere  evening 
arter  we  got  it  done,  and  all  hands  be  to 
eat  supper  in  the  cabin  in  honor  on  it,  we 
dresses  up  in  our  shore  togs,  and  at  four 
bells  the  starboard  watch  be  to  eat  first. 
We  was  all  on  the  quarter  deck,  and,  be- 
in*  carpenter,  I  was  a  leadin'  the  way 
down  into  the  cuddy  and  the  captain 
standin'  at  the  foot  of  the  ladder  ready  to 
give  us  a  hearty  welcome  when  the  look- 
out as  was  a  straddle  the  fer-r'yal  yard 
sings  out : 

"  '  Sa-a-i-1  ho-o-o !  One  pint  for'ard  the 
stab-bord  be-e-am ! ' 

"  With  that  we  all  rushes  down  to  the 
stabbord  rail  Sure  enough,  there  be  the 
r'yals  and  the  to'gallants'ls  of  a  full  rig 


THE  PORT   OF  MISSING   SHIPS         45 

ship  jest  a  pokin'  across  the  sun  as  was  a 
droppin'  rapid  out  o'  sight,  and  there  we 
stands  leanin'  out  over  that  rail  and  strain- 
in'  our  eyes  till  she  crosses  the  sun  and 
gets  fogged  in  by  them  colored  hazes  and 
mistses  beyand. 

"So  we  be  to  have  somethin'  new  ter 
talk  about  at  supper,  and  we  gits  that  'ere 
strung  up  over  it,  not  a  one  of  us- be  to 
sleep  a  wink  that  blessed  night,  only 
tramp  the  deck  and  work  our  jaw-tackles. 
In  course  we'd  kept  away  a  bit,  if  so  be 
we  might  head  her  off. 

"  With  the  fust  streak  in  the  east  away 
we  all  goes  to  the  r'yal  yards  and  hangs 
there,  a  peerin'  into  the  dark  and  waitin'. 
Our  trick  on  the  lookout  weren't  fer  long, 
hows'ever,  for  we  soon  sees  a  shadder  of 
her  as  the  gray  of  the  mornin'  was  a 
spreadin',  and  then,  suddin  like,  up  comes 
the  sun.  Whew !  I  e'na'most  fell  offen  the 
yard.  She  were  scrubbed  and  painted  and 
polished  alow  and  aloft  like  the  Nucleus. 


46  STORIES   OF  THE   SEA 

"  While  we  were  a  starin*  there  and  a 
never  sayin'  nothin',  only  breathin'  hard, 
we  sees  a  line  a  hardenin'  above  the  hori- 
zon beyand  her,  which  all  on  us  recog- 
nized to  oncet,  and  we  hails  the  deck 
together. 

' '  '  Land  ho-o-o ! ' 

"  Meantime  the  breeze  had  been  fresh- 
enin'  with  the  risin'  sun,  and  it  drives  us 
swishing  and  splashing  along  and  the 
coast  rises  rapid.  While  we  was  waiting 
for  to  git  a  some'at  better  squint  at  it  we 
notices  the  shore  fishes  to  be  oncom- 
mon  plenty — more  nor  any  of  us  ever  see, 
and  such  flocks  of  birds  as  I  never  hearn 
on  afore.  In  course  we  don't  be  to  pay 
much  attention  to  them  'ere,  only  the 
captain,  as  noticed  "em  likewise,  says  he 
see  plenty  of  birds  among  'em  as  he  sup- 
posed had  been  done  for  long  ago,  and 
in  consequence  we  be  to  come  to  a  island 
or  coast  o'  some  sort  what  nobody  didn't 
know  much  about. 


THE   PORT   OF   MISSING   SHIPS         47 

"So  the  captain  and  Mr.  Spencer  be 
to  keep  screwing  the  binoculars  into  their 
eyes  and  goin'  down  and  lookin'  at  charts 
by  turns,  and  the  more  they  looked  the 
puzzleder  they  gets,  especial  when  they 
sees  a  bay  or  harbor  openin'  out  afore 
them  with  two  headlands  of  cur'us  form 
a  guardin"  of  it.  The  both  on  'em  had 
sailed  the  length  of  the  whole  coast  of 
America  many's  the  time,  and  the  Nu- 
cleus were  oncommon  well  found  in 
charts,  but  neither  on  'em  ever  see  or 
hearn  of  a  coast  and  harbor  like  this,  and 
so  the  captain  he  says  we're  comin'  to  a 
port  as  ain't  down  in  no  chart,  and  if  so 
be  it  are  a  undiscovered  country,  all  we 
can  do  is  to  keep  a  sharp  lookout. 

"  It  were  soon  settled  about  it  bein'  a 
country  as  hadn't  been  discovered,  for 
wery  soon  arter  the  captain  were  sayin' 
of  it  we  begins  to  sight  sails  atween 
them  headlands,  and  by  and  by,  as  that 
'ere  bay  opens  out  afore  us,  we  sees  that 


THE    PORT   OF   MISSING   SHIPS        49 

a  mighty  fleet  had  gathered  there.  How 
can  I  tell  it  to  you  what  I  see  and  make 
you  believe  it,  about  the  great  open  hulks 
as  had  only  one  mast  and  was  rowed  with 
oars  and  yet  could  carry  the  Nucleus's 
cargo  :  the  ships  with  jib-booms  and  no 
jibs  but  squares'ls  instid  ;  ships  with  lat- 
een fores'ls  and  others  with  lateen  mizzens, 
and  no  end  of  other  rigs  such  as  no  man 
ever  see  nor  no  sailorman  *ud  have  noth- 
in'  to  do  with,  not  to  mention  the  craft 
rigged  as  we've  seen  ships  rigged  afore- 
time, and  them  as  was  shipshape,  and 
some  as  I  remember  of  seein'  afore. 
Wherever  did  they  all  come  from  ?  what- 
ever were  they  there  for  ?  How  did  we 
happen  to  be  sailin'  into  that  ere  harbor  ? 
Why  did  hundreds — aye,  hundreds  on 
them  cur'us  hulks,  with  cur'user  flags  and 
streamers,  and  with  their  sails  embroid- 
ered all  over  with  pictur's,  and  the  crews 
playing  on  no  end  o'  musical  instruments, 
come  out  alongside  the  ship  as  was  ahead 


SO  STORIES   OF  THE  SEA 

of  us  and  give  her  a  welcome  heartylike, 
as  we  could  hear  a  mile  away,  and  then 
bear  up  to  meet  us  ?  " 

"We  tumbled  down  from  aloft,  and 
standin'  on  the  rail  about  the  quarter- 
deck, right  glad  as  we'd  got  the  ship  to 
rights  in  time,  stood  by  to  greet  'em  as 
was  becomin*  in  a  Yankee  ship.  I  see 
them  as  they  comes  veerin'  around,  I 
sees  the  smiles  on  their  faces,  hears  their 
shouts  and  their  music,  notices  in  par- 
tic'lar  that  'ere  big  side-wheeler  the  At- 
lantic, as  was  headin'  for  our  lee  quarter 
like  she  would  give  us  a  line  or  suthin'; 
and  then  Captain  McDonald,  as  was  a 
looking'  aft,  happens  to  see  a  rope-yarn 
a  danglin'  from  the  end  o'  the  spanker- 
boom  as  untidy  as  a  cobweb  in  a  lady's 
parlor.  Pintin'  at  it  quick  he  whispers  to 
me  : 

"  '  Mister  Servenmalet,  kindly  remove 
it.' 

"  I  jumped  fer  to  do  it,   feelin'  wery 


THE   PORT   OF  MISSING   SHIPS         51 

much  ashamed  on  account  of  its  bein' 
there,  and  just  as  I  gets  my  fingers  on 
to  it  that  'ere  Atlantic  with  her  big  pad- 
dlewheels  reversed  sweeps  up  alongside 
and  the  swell  bumps  her  agin  our  stab- 
bord  counter,  and  off  I  tumbles,  with 
the  shock.  I  flounders  about  for  a  time 
and  then  some  one  grabs  me  by  the  hair 
and  pulls  me  out.  I  opens  my  eyes — 
alas!  I  finds  myself— here." 

The  Sifter  of  Rumors  had  a  copy  of 
the  Commercial  Bulletin  in  his  pocket 
He  drew  it  out  and  began  to  glance  down 
the  column  headed  "  Marine  News."  An 
item  caught  his  eye,  and  he  read  it  aloud. 
Here  it  is : 

"  NEW  LONDON,  October  n. 

"  Whaling  schooner  Henrietta  Hazel- 
tine,  Norton,  from  South  Atlantic,  ar- 
rived with  full  cargo.  June  22,  1886, 
latitude  21°  17'  north,  longitude  32°  3' 
west,  during  prolonged  squall,  in  which 


STORIES   OF  THE   SEA 


had  main  trysail  carried  away,  saw  ship 
sink  about  half  mile  to  leeward,  being 
swamped  by  a  tidal  wave,  which  the 
Hazeltine  rode  in 
safety.  On  drifting 
down  to  where  ship 
disappeared,  found 
one  man  clinging 
to  a  spare  spar,  and 
having  bad  cut  in 
head.  He  after- 
ward signed  arti- 
cles as  Jack  Ser- 
venmalet,  cooper 
and  carpenter. 
Never  fully  recov- 
ered mentally  from 
effect  of  wound,  but  did  duty  in  a  satis- 
factory manner.  He  could  not  remember 
name  of  ship,  but  talked  in  his  sleep  a 
good  deal  about  the  New  Class  or  some 
such  name  of  a  ship." 
The  sailor  listened  attentively  to  the 


THE   PORT   OF  MISSING  SHPIS         53 

reading  of  the  item,  and  when  it  was 
done  said : 

"The  Henrietta  Hazeltine,  whaler,  me 
cooper  and  carpenter.  Sure,  that  do  be 
the  name.  Cur'us  things  be  to  happen 
at  sea,  eh  ?  " 

After  a  few  minutes  he  turned  on  his 
side,  and  putting  out  his  hand  took  hold 
of  Kelly's,  and  then  said,  in  a  lower 
tone : 

"  Matey,  did  ye  say  the  Nucleus  had 
been  missing  nigh  hand  to  a  year  'n 
more,  and  that  that  'ere  Atlantic  were 
a  missing  steamship  too.  I  don't  know, 
I  don't  think  so.  I  think  I  be  to  go  back 
to  the  Nucleus,  matey.  My  head  feels  a 
bit  quare,  but  I  reckon  I'll  soon  make  that 
'ere  harbor  and  that  'ere  fleet  agin." 

And  he  did.  He  turned  to  the  wall, 
at  this,  smiling  at  the  thought  of  once 
more  joining  his  shipmates  in  the  beauti- 
ful harbor,  and  closed  his  eyes  as  if  to 
sleep.  A  clock  in  the  barren  sitting-room 


54  STORIES   OF   THE   SEA 

below  began  to  strike,  and  the  sailorman 
counted  the  strokes  of  the  bell  in  a  whis- 
per. 

"One,  two,  three,  four,  five,  six,  seven, 
eight.  Aye,  aye,  sir  ;  eight  bells.  All  the 
starboard  watch,  sir." 

He  sprang  up  from  his  pillow  as  if  to 
leave  the  bed,  and  then  dropped  back 
again  and  lay  perfectly  still.  The  sur- 
geon looked  alarmed  now  and  hastily 
felt  of  his  pulse.  There  was  none  in 
wrist  nor  temple,  nor  could  any  beating 
of  the  heart  be  felt.  Jack  Servenmalet 
had  gone  to  meet  the  crew  of  the  missing 
Nucleus  He  was  dead. 


THE    FATE     OF    THE 
GEORGIANA 


BY  MARIA  BLUNT 


CONANICUT  is  a  pleasant 
place  to  spend  a  summer. 
Of  late  years,  indeed,  so 
many  people  have  thought 
so  that  its  pleasantness  has  been  dimin- 
ished and,  for  some  shy  spirits,  destroyed. 
But  if  its  favored  and  advertised  locali- 
ties have  been  improved  to  their  ruin, 
there  are  tracts  along  the  rugged  line  of 
shore,  among  the  "  Dumplings  "  and  the 
huckleberry  bushes,  as  yet  unspoiled. 
Here  the  land  is  broken  into  steep,  sugar- 
loaf  hills  whose  ribs  of  rock  are  covered 
with  wiry  grass,  slippery  to  unaccustomed 


58  STORIES   OF  THE  SEA 

feet ;  and,  extending  into  the  water,  these 
hills  form  a  fringe  of  small  conical  islands 
displaying  more  rock  and  less  grass  than 
they  show  on  shore. 

They  are  the  Dumplings  seething  in  the 
giants'  caldron  of  soup  when  the  storms 
descend  from  the  ocean. 

If  this  is  not  a  pleasing  simile  I  am  not 
responsible,  for  such  is  the  local  tradition, 
embodied  in  the  local  name.  Whatever 
else  they  are,  they  are  picturesque :  in 
tempests,  when  the  waves  are  flung  upon 
them  in  spray ;  or  in  calms,  when  each 
"  floats  double,"  looking  down  upon  its 
shadow. 

To  the  left  is  Newport  Harbor,  its  break- 
water and  Fort  Adam^:  to  the  right,  the 
slim  point  of  Beaver  Tail  and  the  open 
ocean. 

Here  blows  the  salt  breath  of  the  Atlan- 
tic, untainted  by  drainage  ;  here  break 
foam-tipped  billows,  unvexed  by  bathing- 
ropes  ;  here,  below  the  tapering  hills  and 


THE   FATE   OF   THE   GEORGIANA     59 

bristling,  pointed  rocks,  the  gulls  still 
watch  for  fish,  as  above  them  the  few  an- 
cient farm-houses,  gray,  storm-beaten, 
and  lonely,  watch  their  bleak  sheep-ranges 
and  the  wide  sea.  Here  man  may  come 
— though  we  selfishly  hope  he  will  not — 
and  close  to  Newport  and  its  pageants, 
its  social  splendor,  its  naval  pomp,  its 
military  parade,  with  all  the  dash  and 
glitter  of  a  gay  world  before  his  eyes,  may 
live  the  life  of  a  hermit  or  a  savage. 

By  which  of  these  names  the  owners  of 
two  or  three  jaunty  little  cottages,  perched 
high  upon  the  cliffs,  would  wish  to  be  de- 
scribed, I  do  not  know,  but  I  do  know  that 
when  one  of  the  quaintly  fashioned,  soft- 
toned,  peaked  a*d  gabled  structures  was 
offered  to  Dick  Kimball,  he  felt  himself 
an  unexpectedly  lucky  man. 

Dick  had  been  for  some  years  chief 
buyer  for  a  prominent  jobbing  house  and 
was  considered  a  man  of  push  and  energy. 
These  qualities  had  lately  led  him  to  start 


60  STORIES   OF   THE   SEA 

in  business  for  himself,  and  he  was  spoken 
of  as  "  rising."  Now,  as  one  seldom  rises 
with  a  bound,  but  advances,  like  history, 
along  a  slow  spiral,  Dick  found,  as  others 
have  done,  that  if  there  is  more  glory  in 
independent  transactions  there  is  more 
safety  in  an  assured  salary. 

For  a  time  there  seemed  to  be  nothing 
very  certain  about  his  business  except  its 
bad  debts. 

So  he  and  Julia  economized,  wore  their 
old  clothes,  and  hopefully  indulged  in 
more  or  less  expensive  experiments  in 
marketing  on  co-operative  principles. 
During  the  winter  they  talked  very  brave- 
ly of  staying  in  the  city  all  summer,  and 
Julia  said  she  could  take  the  children  to 
the  Park  for  air  and  exercise. 

But  when  the  heats  came  and  the  sun 
on  the  pavements  began  to  look  white,  and 
the  breath  from  the  streets  was  such  that 
no  one  knew  which  was  worse,  the  hot, 
foul  air  outside,  or  the  close,  foul  air  in- 


THE   FATE  OF   THE   GEORGIANA     6l 


side,  Julia  weakened  and  declared  the 
baby  could  never  stand  it.  They  must  go 
somewhere  to  open  fields  and  trees — any- 
where— details  could  be  arranged  after- 
ward. But  details,  when  they  pressed  for 
arrangement,  did  not  prove  so  manage- 
able and  she  was  still  worrying,  undecided, 
when  one  warm  evening  Dick  came  home 
to  dinner  with  a  letter  in  his  pocket. 

"There,  Julia,"  he  said,  throwing  it 
down  by  her  plate.  "  There's  luck.  The 
Browns  are  going  to  Europe." 

"Yes,  if  they  like  it,"  Julia  answered 
languidly,  for  the  weather  was  oppressive 
and  her  luck  had  seemed  small. 

"  Well,  Brown's  as  good  a  fellow  as  he 
always  was  when  he  was  foot  of  our  class, 
and  I  had  to  help  him  scrape  through. 
Success  doesn't  spoil  him  a  bit.  He  knows 
I've  been  hard  up  this  year.  Read  the 
letter.  He  wants  us  to  take  his  cottage 
near  Newport  for  the  summer." 

"  A  cottage  near  Newport!  "  cried  Julia, 


62  STORIES   OF   THE   SEA 

breathless.  "  Why,  Dick,  you  are  dream- 
ing! If  we  can't  afford  Bayshore,  or  the 

Catskills !  You  know  I  haven't  a 

dress  ;  and  as  for  the  children " 

"  But  it  isn't  that  Nothing  of  the  sort. 
Flannel  dresses  and  ginghams — or  sack- 
cloth and  ashes  if  you  choose.  I  lived  in 
a  tennis  shirt  and  knickerbockers  when  I 
was  there  that  summer  before  we  were 
married,  don't  you  remember?  Lovely 
place,  lots  of  sailing  and  fishing.  We 
both  said,  when  we  got  rich  we  would 
build  there.  Brown  got  rich  faster  than  I 
did,  and  you  see  he  has  done  it.  He  and 
Sidney — that's  his  wife's  brother,  you 
know — each  have  cottages.  They  spend 
the  summers  there,  painting.  But  this 
year,  as  you  see,  Brown  says  he's  going 
abroad." 

"  Dear  me  !  "  said  Dick's  pretty  sister 
Georgie,  looking  over  Julia's  shoulder, 
1 '  American  art  must  be  flourishing.  Why 
aren't  you  an  artist,  Dick?  Pictures  must 


THE  FATE   OF  THE   GEORGIANA     63 

sell  better  than  wool  if  Mr.  Brown  and 
Mr.  Sidney  get  seaside  cottages  and  trips 
to  Europe  out  of  theirs." 

"They  don't,"  said  Dick,  promptly. 
"  Not  a  bit  of  it.  Brown's  pictures  sell 
very  well,  but  they  never  built  that  cot- 
tage. Just  wait  till  you  hear  him  on  the 
grossness  of  the  American  public !  No, 
it  was  more  likely  wool,  for  when  old 
Henry  Sidney  died  he  stood  at  the  head 
of  the  trade.  He  left  a  big  pile  and  there 
were  only  Mrs.  Brown  and  her  brother  to 
share  it.  They  can  do  what  they  like. 
Perhaps,"  Dick  added,  with  a  half-pa- 
thetic glance  at  his  own  curly-headed  heir, 
"  Bobby  can  be  a  painter  too,  some  day, 
if  I  stick  to  wool." 

Julia  jumped  up  and  ran  to  his  end  of 
the  table,  regardless  of  etiquette,  or  even 
of  the  example  she  set  to  Master  Bobby. 

"I  don't  care  how  nice  Mr.  Brown  is,  I 
won't  take  his  cottage.  And  leave  you  ! 
Why,  Dick,  I  could  not  do  it." 


64  STORIES   OF  THE   SEA 

But  she  finally  did  The  offer  was 
really  too  good  to  be  refused,  and  of 
course  Dick  protested  that  he  longed  to 
be  left,  and  talked  jocosely  of  bachelor 
freedom,  Coney  Island,  and  the  peanut 
galleries.  Besides,  he  would  often  run  up 
to  see  them. 

A  hot  wave  came  on.  One  of  the  chil- 
dren fell  ill.  Georgie  packed  the  trunks 
with  the  thermometer  at  90°,  and  after  an 
uncomfortable  night  on  the  Newport  boat, 
Mrs.  and  Miss  Kimball,  two  children,  and 
the  very  important  personage  who  had 
been  induced  to  come  with  them  as  cook, 
stood  among  their  bags  and  bundles  on 
the  high  cottage  balcony  and  turned  their 
bleached  faces  seaward  to  the  strong  salt 
air. 

They  knew  at  once  that  they  had  done 
wisely  and  well,  and  began  to  put  things 
to  rights  with  enthusiasm.  In  this  task 
they  were  much  assisted,  and  their  enthu- 
siasm was  sustained,  by  the  kindness  of 


THE  FATE   OF   THE   GEORGIANA     65 

their  neighbor,  Mr.  Sidney,  who  prompt- 
ly came  over  from  the  adjoining  cottage, 
initiated  them  into  the  ways  of  the  island 
— and  the  islanders — engaged  a  boy  for 
them,  placed  his  boats  and  man  at  their 
disposal,  and  introduced  his  friend  Jack 
Horner,  who  was  spending  a  vacation 
with  him. 

"  Another  artist,"  Georgie  wrote  to 
Dick.  "  They  do  thrive  surprisingly  out 
here.  But  I  believe  Mr.  Horner  is  not 
rich.  He  might  as  well  be  in  wool.  He 
can  paint,  though.  At  least  Mr.  Sidney 
says  so,  and  that  he  is  truly  a  genius.  I 
hope  he  is,  but  I  know  he  can  swim  mag- 
nificently, and  they  are  teaching  Julia 
and  me  to  row.  We  should  be  perfectly 
happy  if  only  you  could  come.  We  hate 
to  think  of  you  in  the  hot  city  while  we 
"  etc.,  etc. 

Dick  did  come,  when  he  could,  to 
spend  the  Sundays,  sometimes  adding  a 
Saturday  or  Monday,  when  the  three  men 


66  STORIES   OF   THE  SEA 

would  go  out  in  Sidney's  boats  and  fish 
all  day,  coming  back  sunburned  and 
happy,  whether  they  caught  anything  or 
not. 

Julia  established  a  small  table  and  an 
urn  upon  the  balcony  and  made  coffee 
there  in  the  summer  evenings,  and  Sid- 
ney and  Homer  testified  their  approval 
by  coming  over  very  regularly  to  drink  it. 

Georgie  found  them  delightful  compan- 
ions. She  was  bright  and  active,  and 
could  play  tennis  and  handle  a  pair  of 
oars  to  admiration.  On  hot  mornings 
when  a  land  breeze  made  these  sports  un- 
attractive, the  balcony  was  still  the  cool- 
est place,  and  the  two  men  formed  a 
habit  of  loitering  there. 

There  would  be  needlework  and  talk  ; 
they  even  were  not  above  reading  aloud. 
By  and  by  Sidney,  with  some  diffidence, 
set  up  his  easel  and  begged  permission  to 
put  Miss  Georgie's  shapely  head  upon  it, 
and  after  that  she  sat  quite  regularly. 


"    <r'' 


Horner  looked  on  and  criticised.     Julia 
suggested  effects  of  costume  and  drapery. 
It  was  all  very  cosey  and  intimate. 


II. 

"ANYHOW,  I  can  paint  a  boat.  She's 
as  dainty  as  a  shell.  Who'd  know  her  for 
the  old  tub  we  pried  off  the  rocks  yon- 
der ?" 

A  fresh  breeze  blew  briskly  from  the 
sea.  The  crisp  waves  ran  before  it,  toss- 
ing their  foamy  crests.  The  wet  rocks 
glistened  ;  the  water  glanced  and  spar- 
kled ;  the  radiant  sunlight  gave  the  air  a 
67 


68  STORIES  OF   THE   SEA 

metallic  glitter  like  tiny  points  of  dia- 
mond dust  White  breakers  chased  each 
other  on  Agassiz's  Point,  and  across  the 
bay  a  few  reefed  sails  were  scudding  with 
the  swift-winged  gulls.  One  felt  the  rush 
of  the  world  through  space. 

Below  the  cottages  wooden  stairs  led 
from  ledge  to  ledge,  down  the  steep  sides 
of  a  basin-shaped  cove  where  Sidney's 
various  pleasure  craft  were  rocking  at 
their  moorings.  A  tiny  sloop  was  laid  up 
on  this  sheltered  beach,  and,  paint-pot  in 
hand,  Horner  wriggled  out  from  under  it. 
He  stopped  half-way  and,  lying  on  his 
back,  put  some  extra  touches  to  the  stern, 
where  the  name,  "  Georgiana,"  shone  re- 
splendent in  gold  on  a  buff  ground. 

"  You've  made  those  letters  big 
enough,'  said  Sidney. 

"  "Tis  to  be  read  afar,"  retorted  Hor- 
ner. "The  meteor  of  the  seas.  If  you 
give  a  month  to  the  lady's  portrait,  shall 
I  take  less  pains  with  her  name  ?  " 


THE  FATE   OF   THE  GEORGIANA      69 


"  She  says  it  is  not  her  name,"  mur- 
mured Sidney,  maliciously,  but  the  wind 
blew  his  words  away.  He  was  crouching, 
for  protection  against  this  wind,  behind  a 
big  bowlder  and  was  painting  a  jutting 
point  of  rocks  over  which  the  waves  were 
dashing.  With  his  pocket  box  of  colors 
and  a  handful  of  fine  brushes,  he  had 
managed  to  catch  the  spirit  of  the  breezy 
morning,  the  wide  sea  and  brilliant  sky, 
upon  a  foot,  or  so,  of  paper. 

Homer  came  up  and  leaned  over  the 
bowlder,  rubbing  his  daubed  fingers. 

"  Your  perspective  tilts  a  good  deal, 
seems  to  me,"  he  said,  but  presently  he 
burst  out,  "  By  Jove,  I  don't  see  how  you 
do  it.  It's  more  wonderful  than  genius — 
of  which,  you  know,  you  haven't  a  spark 

Or,  no,  it  is  genius,  the  genius  of 

manipulation." 

"Well,"  said  Sidney,  serenely,  "what 
is  all  genius  but  the  power  to  do  ?  " 

"Now  if  I  had  been  doing  that,"  pur- 


70  STORIES   OF   THE   SEA 

sued  Homer,  still  stretching  over  the 
rock,  "  I  should  have  wanted  a  canvas  as 
big  as  the  side  of  a  church,  something 
huge  and  inspiring  like  the  ocean  out 
there.  But  here  you  have  it  on  an  insig- 
nificant scrap,  as  if  you  had  seen  it 
through  the  small  end  of  a  spy-glass.  It 
is  positively  immoral.  You  belittle  nat- 
ure." 

"  My  dear  fellow,"  said  Sidney,  smil- 
ing, "  what  value  has  size  in  art?  " 

"  But  how  can  you  see  in  such  alight  ?  " 
Horner  grumbled.  "  This  intolerable 
dazzle  would  put  my  eyes  out." 

"  If  I  waited  till  everything  suited  me, 
how  much  would  I  ever  do  ?  "  asked  Sid- 
ney, going  over  his  shadows  with  a  care- 
ful hand. 

The  relationship  between  these  two, 
though  close,  was  peculiar.  It  dated  from 
their  school-days,  when  Horner,  as  the 
more  experienced  and  muscular,  had 
stood  Sidney's  friend  with  aggressive 


THE   FATE   OF  THE   GEORGIANA     71 

classmates,  and  although  Sidney  had 
since  repaid  this  kindness  many  times, 
their  relative  positions  had  never  greatly 
altered.  Horner  was  still  the  better  man, 
in  his  own  eyes  and  in  those  of  his  friend. 
Yet  Sidney  was  rich  and  Horner  poor. 
More  than  this,  Sidney's  family  connec- 
tions opened  to  him  literary  and  artistic 
circles — we  will  not  call  them  rings— that 
Horner  could  scarcely  have  entered  alone. 
His  was  a  sporadic  genius  springing  from 
meagre  soil,  and  he  might  have  struggled 
uselessly  his  life  long,  but  for  the  lucky 
chance  that  united  him  to  Sidney.  Yet  it 
was  he  who  seemed  to  give.  A  certain 
obtuseness  is  often  part  of  the  endowment 
of  rich  and  simple  natures,  and  Homer's 
affection  for  Sidney  had  never  quite  lost 
the  slight  tinge  of  patronage  with  which  it 
started — an  attitude  easily  made  ridicu- 
lous, had  it  not  been  so  unconscious  and 
sincere.  Its  justification  was  his  greater 
power,  a  fact,  although  it  must  be  said 


72  STORIES   OF   THE  SEA 

that  as  yet  he  had  not  done  very  much  to 
prove  it.  Sidney,  working  with  method 
and  precision,  unswayed  by  wayward 
impulses,  quietly  increased  in  artistic 
stature  and  in  favor  with  critics  and  hang- 
ing-committees. He  was,  in  short,  suc- 
cessful, and  we  all  know  that  only  the  dis- 
appointed care  to  sift  too  carefully  the 
causes  of  success.  Horner,  at  times, 
came  perilously  near  this  latter  class. 

He  made  his  daily  bread — with  condi- 
ments— by  illustrations  for  various  peri- 
odicals, but  although  this  is  honorable 
employment,  it  failed  to  satisfy  him.  His 
ambitions  were  vast  and  vague,  and  filled 
him  with  their  restlessness.  He  was  for- 
ever planning  largely  and  working  furi- 
ously, until  he  dropped  exhausted  and 
was  obliged  to  lie  by  and  gather  strength 
•  for  another  onset 

One  of  these  forced  recruiting  seasons 
was  upon  him  now,  and  he  was  defending 
himself  against  its  depression  as  best  he 


THE   FATE   OF   THE   GEORGIANA     73 


could,  fretting  secretly  at  his  idleness, 
but  rowing,  fishing,  and  swimming  as  if 
such  pastimes  were  the  end  and  aim  of 
his  being.  He  walked  all  over  the  island 
and  sailed  all  over  the  bay,  and  finally 
wreaked  his  reviving  energies  upon  an 
old  boat  that  he  found  stranded  on  the 
rocks.  Having  repaired  her,  he  painted 
her,  and  regarded  his  work  with  much 
satisfaction,  as  we  have  seen. 

As,  less  contentedly,  he  watched  Sid- 
ney's nimble  fingers,  a  riotous  gust  struck 
him  and  whirled  his  cap  from  his  head. 
When  he  caught  and  replaced  it,  his  eyes 
travelled  round  the  little  harbor  with  its 
boats. 

"Where's  the  skiff?"  he  asked,  ab- 
ruptly. 

"  Miss  Kimball  has  it,"  Sidney  an- 
swered, without  looking  up  from  his  work. 

"  Why  didn't  you  make  Bates  take  a 
heavier  boat  such  a  day?  By  the  way, 
Bates  went,  I  hope,  and  not  Frank." 


74  STORIES   OF   THE  SKA 

"I — why,  really  I  don't  know."  Sid- 
ney put  down  his  brushes  and  looked 
troubled.  "I  meant  to  go  with  her  my- 
self, but  she  got  off  before  we  were  down. 
But  I  suppose  so.  She  would  not  want  a 
boy  with  the  sea  like  this." 

"Heaven  knows  what  she'd  want;  I 
don't,"  Horner  muttered,  half  under  his 
breath.  "Whatever  it  is,  it's  likely  to 
be  more  than  I  can  fathom.  But  I  know 
what  I  want — that  she  should  not  pass  the 
Point  in  a  cockle-shell  to-day. " 

Sidney  looked  gravely  at  the  racing 
breakers,  then  resumed  his  painting,  as 
with  an  effort,  saying  only  : 

"  I  think  we  may  trust  Bates." 

Horner  sat  idly  gazing  at  the  Georgi- 
ana,  whistling  softly  to  himself,  when  a 
cry  from  Sidney  startled  him. 

"  By  Jove  !     It  can't  be." 

"  What— where  ?  " 

"  Look  there  !  " 

"  Good !  " 


THE   FATE   OF   THE   GEORGIANA     75 

A  little  skiff,  wave-tossed,  was  slowly 
rounding  the  Point,  and  in  it,  toiling  in 
rowing,  sat  Georgie,  alone.  Her  hat  was 
blown  back  and  lay  upon  her  shoulders  ; 
a  strand  of  her  loosened  hair  curled  over 
it ;  and  her  veil  and  fluttering  ends  of  rib- 
bon whipped  about  her  head.  Tti"ey  were 
picturesque,  but  made  her  look  as  if  she 
were  flying  signals  of  distress. 

Both  men  sprang  up  and  ran  down  to 
the  shore — one  had  turned  white. 

They  could  see  that  she  looked  often 
over  her  shoulder,  as  if  anxious,  and,  al- 
though she  pulled  stoutly,  she  was  evi- 
dently tired.  The  skiff  made  little  prog- 
ress ;  the  oars  scarce  held  the  water  ;  the 
white-caps  danced  about  her  mockingly, 
and  the  two  men  watched  her  in  a  tense 
silence.  Homer  had  even  started  back 
to  get  another  boat  when  Georgie,  barely 
clearing  the  outlying  rocks,  turned  sharp 
round  under  the  temporary  shelter  of  a 
big  Dumpling  and  headed  directly  for 


76  STORIES   OF   THE   SEA 

the  shore.  The  wind  was  now  at  her 
back,  and  the  little  boat,  borne  by  an  in- 
coming wave,  sped  to  land.  They  could 
see  her  trying  to  guide  it  to  the  cove,  and 
she  showed  both  skill  and  courage,  but  it 
was  quickly  beyond  her  control. 

As  ft  rushed  up,  Sidney  and  Homer 
splashed  into  the  water  and  caught  the 
prow.  Georgie  shipped  her  oars  quickly, 
a  curling  sea  broke  over  them  all,  nearly 
sweeping  the  men  from  their  feet,  filling 
the  boat  with  water,  and  flinging  them  all 
forward,  breathless  from  the  shock,  upon 
the  beach.  Georgie  clung  desperately  to 
her  seat ;  Horner,  struggling  for  a  foot- 
hold, lifted  the  skiff  by  main  force  and 
ran  it  out  of  reach  of  the  pursuing  waves. 
As  the  last  one  broke  ineffectually  behind 
them,  Sidney  held  out  his  hand  to  Geor- 
gie, who  rose  with  an  affectation  of  ease 
and  a  panting  attempt  to  laugh. 

She  shook  out  her  drenched  skirt, 
tossed  the  hair  from  her  forehead,  looked 


78  STORIES   OF  THE   SEA 

brightly  up  a  moment  to  challenge  criti- 
cism, but  then  leaned  back  against  the 
boat  unable  to  conceal  her  exhaustion. 

She  was  very  pretty.  The  graceful 
outlines  of  her  figure,  showing  here  and 
there  through  the  folds  of  her  wet  and 
clinging  garments,  and  the  soft  color  of 
her  charming  face  were  well  set  off 
against  the  tilted  skiff  and  a  background 
of  blue  sea. 

But  if  the  color-loving  eyes  that  saw 
her  took  involuntary  note  of  these  har- 
monies, it  was  in  no  tone  of  admiration 
that  Horner  began,  excitedly  : 

"Of  all  the  crazy  things  I  ever  heard 
of,  this  exceeds.  I  did  not  think  even 
you  could  be  guilty  of  such  folly." 

"Oh — thank  you,"  Georgie  struggled 
to  say  lightly.  "  How  nice  to  exceed  the 
expectations  of  one's  friends  !  " 

"  You  never  should  have  done  it. 
Where  was  Bates  ?  Or  Frank  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  know.     Busy,  no  doubt  ?  " 


THE  FATE    OF   THE  GEORGIANA     79 

"  You  mean  to  say  you  have  been  all 
the  way  to  the  Landing — alone — in  that 
shell — in  this  gale  ?  And  back  ?  Why 
didn't  you  send  for  me?  Great  Powers 
of  Heaven  !  It  makes  me  cold  to  think 
of  it." 

He  seemed  so.  He  was  pale,  almost 
as  breathless  as  she,  looking  at  her  with 
a  curious  mixture  of  anger  and  entreaty. 

She  returned  the  look  with  a  hint  of 
defiance,  as  if  his  tone  incensed  her. 

"Why  did  you  do  it?  What  made 
you  ?  Promise  me  never  to  do  such  a 
thing  again." 

"  You  make  too  much  of  it,"  Georgie 
answered,  very  quickly.  "  Nonsense.  I 
went  because  I  liked.  It  was — exhilarat- 
ing. Good-by." 

She  turned  lightly  off.  Sidney,  who 
had  been  busy  about  the  boat  and  silent, 
now  came  forward  and,  still  silent,  offered 
his  arm  to  lead  her  up  the  stairway.  She 
shook  her  head — perhaps  because  she 


80  STORIES   OF   THE   SEA 

could  not  speak  —  and  sprang  up  the 
steps  ;  then  turned  and  laughingly  waved 
her  hand  back  to  them — a  bit  of  bravado 
that  did  no  good,  for  it  only  showed  how 
•white  she  had  become,  and  neither  of  the 
men  smiled. 

Sidney  presently  gathered  up  his  sketch- 
ing paraphernalia  and  prepared  to  leave 
the  cove.  "  Are  you  coming  ?  "  he  asked, 
as  Homer  made  no  motion  to  follow. 

"  I'm  going  for  a  stroll,"  Horner  strove 
to  say,  indifferently.  "The  day  is  too 
fine  for  the  house." 

"  I  am  going  to  get  into  something 
dry,"  said  Sidney,  in  an  odd  tone.  "  I 
advise  you  to  do  the  same." 

"  I'm  not  wet,"  said  Horner,  impatient- 
ly. "  At  least — "  for  he  was  soaked — "  I 
don't  care.  I'm  not  going  in  just  now." 

Georgie's  smile  died  away  long  before 
she  reached  the  top  of  the  bluff,  and  she 
was  very  glad  to  sink  down  under  the 
lee  of  the  cottage  walls,  where  Julia  was 


THE   FATE   OF   THE   GEORGIANA     8l 

watching  the  children  at  play.  Mrs. 
Kimball  had  thriftily  tied  the  children's 
hats  over  their  little  ears  for  safety  from 
the  romping  wind,  but  of  what  other  mis- 
chief that  wind  might  be  doing  she  was 
happily  ignorant.  Happily  too,  as  Julia's 
own  beach  hat  limited  her  field  of  vision 
like  a  tunnel,  Georgie  could  keep  her 
bare  head  and  dripping  dress  out  of  focus 
and  recover  breath  unmolested.  When 
Julia  remarked  that  she  had  not  seen 
either  of  their  neighbors  that  morning, 
Georgie  refrained  from  answering  that 
she  had,  but  then,  womanlike,  nearly 
betrayed  herself  by  breaking  out,  petu- 
lantly, "  I  should  think  you'd  be  glad  of 
it.  We  see  enough  of  them,  I'm  sure. 
And  Mr.  Homer  is  a  perfect  bear." 

''Oh,  if  you  compare  him  to  Mr.  Sid- 
ney  "  said  Julia,  laughing  at  this  un- 
grateful burst.  "  What  can  you  expect  ? 
But  he  is  very  polite.  He  has  even 
named  his  boat  for  you."  * 


82  STORIES   OF   THE   SEA 

"  For  me  ? "  retorted  the  girl,  indig- 
nantly. "  You  know  better,  Julia.  At 
least  you  know  that  my  name  is  not 
Georgiana." 

III. 

A  SLEEPY  sea  with  a  few  idle  sails  upon 
it.  Hazy  distances  melting  into  a  sky 
full  of  hot  sunshine.  Subdued  murmurs 
from  the  beach,  where  lazy  waves  lapped 
gently  in  and  went  out  again  with  a  low 
swish,  like  a  sigh. 

Such  are  the  changes  of  the  seaside. 

Who  would  take  that  calm  expanse  for 
the  boisterous  main  ?  Or  that  sedate  and 
white-robed  maiden  for  the  rash  rower  of 
yesterday  ?  Aphrodite,  born  of  spray 
and  landing  from  a  sea-shell,  is  a  conve- 
nient metaphor,  but  Georgie  had  prob- 
ably resembled  her  less  when  really  com- 
ing out  of  the  raging  deep,  all  wet  flannel 
and  blowing  locks,  than  she  did  now 
when  seated  in  a  low  wicker  chair,  safe 


THE   FATE   OF   THE   GEORGIANA     83 

and  dry  on  the  shaded  balcony,  with  her 
soft,  billowy  draperies  piled  about  her 
like  foam. 

She  was  doing  nothing — that  is,  she 
was  gazing  dreamily  upon  the  dreamy 
sea  and  sitting  for  her  portrait,  that  Sid- 
ney was  industriously,  and  at  the  mo- 
ment silently,  painting. 

Julia,  who  could  seldom  afford  to  do 
nothing,  had  taken  her  work-basket  to 
the  other  end  of  the  balcony,  where  she 
said  there  was  more  breeze.  As  there 
seemed  to  be  none  anywhere,  it  was 
clever  of  her  to  find  this  out,  but  possibly 
her  cleverness  had  suggested  other  rea- 
sons for  going  there.  At  all  events  she 
fastened  her  attention  upon  her  sewing, 
until  Homer's  restlessness  diverted  it. 

He  had  come  up  after  Sidney's  easel 
had  been  placed,  and  for  a  little  while 
lounged  about,  making  comments,  as  was 
his  wont.  But  he  had  soon  grown  ab- 
stracted, then  silent,  until  he  suddenly 


84  STORIES   OF   THE   SEA 

went  over  and  joined  Julia.  There  he 
sat  upon  the  rail  and  swung  his  feet,  look- 
ing off  to  sea,  making  an  aimless  remark 
or  two,  or  letting  Julia's  lively  talk  ripple 
over  him  unregarded,  until  she  said  he 
made  her  nervous  and  asked  him  why  he 
did  not  read  to  her.  The  book  they  had 
begun  was  on  the  library  table  ;  would  he 
get  it  ?  How  nice  !  He  went  obediently, 
but  he  did  not  come  back. 

All  over  the  house  the  windows  were 
open,  the  shutters  bowed,  and  the  rooms 
in  that  cool  twilight  beloved  of  good 
housekeepers — if  not  artists — in  garish 
summer.  Coming  from  the  outer  glare, 
Horner's  eyes  were  dazzled  and  he  saw 
only  what  he  brought  with  him — the  im- 
age of  a  white  dress  projected  upon  a 
square  of  blue. 

He  went  mechanically  to  the  table  as 
directed,  and  being  there  forgot  book — 
Julia — himself— and  all  the  world.  He 
stood  between  two  windows  ;  near  to  one 


THE   FATE   OF   THE   GEORGIANA     85 

was  Sidney's  easel,  and  through  the  half- 
closed  blinds  the  low  talk  drifted  in. 

"I  have  something  to  ask  you,"  he 
heard,  in  Sidney's  quiet  voice.  "  Do  you 
know — I  am  sure  you  do  not — how  much 
you  frightened — a — us  all  yesterday  ?  It 
still  seems  a  miracle  that  you  are  here 
now.  If  you  knew  how  cruel  such  rash- 
ness can  be " 

"It  was  foolish,"  Georgie  answered, 
without  a  trace  of  resentment.  "In  fact, 
it  was  very  wrong.  I  know  I  owe  you  an 
apology  for  the  wetting  I  gave  you." 

"  No,"  he  said,  "  not  for  that." 

"Well,  for  the  fright  too,"  she  as- 
sented, and  Homer  could  tell  that  she 
smiled.  "  To  tell  the  truth,  I  was  fright- 
ened myself." 

"  Promise  me  never  to  do  such  a  thing 
again." 

They  were  the  same  words  that  Horner 
had  used  the  day  before,  but  with  what  a 
difference !  He  in  his  excitement  had 


86  STORIES   OF  THE  SEA 

slapped  them  at  her  rudely.  He  could 
see  this  himself  now.  Sidney's  tone  was 
deferential,  soothing — it  was  more,  it  was 
maddeningly  caressing.  Would  she  suf- 
fer it?  Would  she  not  assert  her  inde- 
pendence ? 

No.  She  was  answering  with  the  ut- 
most meekness  and  docility. 

Horner  felt  the  blood  rush  to  his  tem- 
ples, then  woke  to  the  fact  that  he  was 
listening,  eavesdropping,  spying  upon — 
with  how  sharp  a  stab  the  knowledge 
came  ! — his  rival's  privacy. 

He  went  blindly  out. 

He  did  not  hear  a  chair  pushed  back, 
nor  know  that  Georgie  had  risen  and  was 
coming  into  the  house,  so  when  he  met 
her  in  the  hall  the  surprise  overcame 
him. 

"  Do  you  mean  it  ?  "  he  said,  savagely, 
barring  her  way,  "or  are  you  only  fool- 
ing— him,  and  me,  and  all  of  us  ?  " 

"Do   I  mean  what?"   asked  Georgie, 


THE   FATE   OF   THE   GEORGIANA     87 

bewildered,  then  more  indignantly,  "  I 
don't  understand  you,  Mr.  Horner. " 

"  That  is  not  true,"  he  answered, 
harshly.  "A  woman  always  under- 
stands." 

"  I  do  not  understand  how  you,  or  any- 
one, can  speak  to  me  like  this,"  she  said, 
coloring  angrily.  ' '  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

Truly  what  did  he  mean  ?  To  make  a 
fool  of  himself?  He  turned  with  a  short 
laugh  of  self-derision  and  strode  out  of 
the  opposite  door. 

The  sun  was  hot  upon  the  hills  and 
on  the  bare,  unshaded  rocks,  as  Horner 
plunged  down  among  them  to  the  shore  ; 
so  hot,  indeed,  that  although  he  felt  a 
fierce  desire  for  motion  he  sank  down 
presently  in  the  stingy  shadow  of  a  cliff, 
panting  and  oppressed.  He  tossed  off 
his  hat  and  tore  his  collar  open,  and 
longed  for  a  storm,  for  a  rushing,  mighty 
wind,  for  something  to  struggle  with  and 
overcome.  For  this  deadly  calm  seemed 


88  STORIES   OF   THE   SEA 

typical  of  Sidney's  suavity  and  underly- 
ing fervor. 

"  He  seems  soft  enough,  but  I  know 
him,"  he  said,  with  clinched  hands. 
"  Nothing  can  move  him  when  he  is  once 
set." 

And  wave  after  wave  of  passion  surged 
through  him  as  he  gauged  the  depth  of 
meaning  in  Sidney's  tone  and  manner. 

Before  him  was  the  dazzling,  glassy 
water ;  behind  him  sunny  uplands  slum- 
bered ;  far  off  drowsy  earth  and  heaven 
met  Quiet  ?  Peace  ?  Why,  in  his 
breast  a  scorching  sirocco  seemed  to 
blow,  drying  up  the  springs  of  life  and 
spreading  ruin  and  desolation. 

He  took  his  head  in  his  hands,  digging 
his  nails  into  the  scalp,  and  went  back 
over  his  life,  thinking  of  what  Sidney  bad 
been  to  him.  When  his  mother  died  ; 
when  his  father  wished  him  to  give  up  art 
and  go  into  business  ;  when  he  had  won 
his  first  prize ;  when  orders  began  to 


THE   FATE   OF   THE   GEORGIANA      89 

come  in  for  his  illustrations  —  at  every 
turn,  in  hours  of  trouble,  in  hours  of  re- 
joicing, it  was  always  Sidney — Sidney. 
It  was  Sidney  whose  generous  admiration 
he  had  so  loftily  received  ;  it  was  Sidney 
whose  help  he  had  not  scrupled  to  take  ; 
and  it  was  Sidney — could  it  be  Sidney  ? — 
who  was  to  crush  him  at  last. 

"  Curse  him — curse  him!  I  owe  him 
everything  I  have,"  he  groaned.  "  I 
never  can  repay  him.  He  has  been 
ahead  of  me  all  my  life.  Money,  stand- 
ing, talent — no,  I  swear,  I've  more  than 
he.  But  he  has  success — success  in  art, 
in  life,  in "  He  could  not  bring  him- 
self to  say  "in  love,"  but  ground  his 
heel  into  the  sand  and  set  his  teeth  and 
cried : 

"  He  shall  not  have  her.  He  shall  not 
have  her.  I'll  kill  him  first." 

The  shadow  of  the  rock  shifted  slowly 
with  the  advancing  day,  and  Horner 
shifted  his  place  mechanically  to  be  out 


90  STORIES   OF   THE   SEA 

of  the  unbearable  sun.  The  tide  had 
crept  away,  leaving  a  stretch  of  stones 
and  shells  covered  with  languishing  sea- 
weed. Here  and  there  a  stranded  crab, 
or  other  water  creature,  crawled  about 
forlornly.  Horner  noted  the  analogy 
with  a  dull  rage.  Had  the  vigor  of  his 
life  ebbed  away  from  him  ?  What  had 
happened  in  these  few  hours  to  change 
the  world  ?  A  girl  had  looked  him  in 
the  face.  A  girl!  There  were  heca- 
tombs of  girls.  But  his  heart  answered 
instantly,  "  One  only — one — out  of  ten 
hundred  thousand  only  one  for  me.  Not 
for  me.  Never  for  me." 

It  seemed  as  if  that  blighting  moment 
of  sudden  knowledge  had  indeed  changed 
his  whole  nature.  Where  were  his  will, 
his  energy,  his  certainty  of  power  ?  Strip- 
ped from  him  !  And  he  saw  himself  a 
failure  and  a  fool. 

Out  of  the  salt  waste  before  him  all 
his  past  disappointments  rose  and  con- 


THE   FATE  OF   THE   GEORGIANA     QI 

fronted  him.  He  had  had  many,  as  all 
ardent,  striving  souls  must  have,  but  he 
had  said  to  himself  that  he  accepted  them, 
overcame  them,  or  went  on  in  spite  of 
them,  patiently  pursuing  his  ideal  and 
letting  that  be  in  itself  his  success. 

Now  he  saw  that  this  had  been  only  his 
vanity.  His  ideal  was  worthless,  or  miles 
out  of  reach,  and  he  a  futile  idiot,  posing 
with  fatuous  conceit  for  Sidney's  admira- 
tion. 

And  Sidney,  who  beat  him  always,  in 
every  way,  could  very  well  afford  to  be 
condescending  and  helpful  and  mag- 
nanimous. 

"  I  will  not  have  it  so.  It  shall  not  be. 
I'll  beat  him  yet,"  he  cried  aloud,  wrest- 
ling with  his  anguish,  and  starting  up  to 
go — anywhere. 

A  breeze  was  ruffling  the  water  and  the 
few  sails  were  filling.  Horner  was  too 
far  under  the  cliff  to  see  that  a  black 
cloud  was  rapidly  rising  in  the  west,  but 


92  STORIES   OF   THE   SEA 

when  he  reached  the  cove  and  saw  the 
Georgiana  gently  swaying  on  her  line,  a 
longing  to  escape  took  possession  of  him. 

On  the  land  was  bondage,  intolerable 
humiliation  and  despair  ;  on  the  sea  was 
freedom,  at  least,  and  air.  He  broke 
into  a  run  and  bounded  down  the  floating 
dock  to  the  sloop. 

"What  are  you  up  to?"  called  Sid- 
ney's voice  from  the  shore.  "  You're  not 
going  out?" 

Homer  paid  no  attention,  but  hauled 
at  the  sail.  Sidney  now  appeared,  hast- 
ening along  the  dock. 

"Can't  you  see  the  sky?"  he  cried. 
"  We're  going  to  have  the  worst  kind  of 
a  storm  in  half  an  hour. " 

Horner  still  took  no  notice,  but  pulled 
the  mainsail  to  position  with  a  vicious 
jerk  and  turned  his  attention  to  the  jib. 
Sidney  came  alongside,  and  laid  his  hand 
on  the  mast. 

"Horner,"  he  said,  seriously,  "  be  ra- 


THE  FATE  OF   THE   GEORGIANA     93 


tional.  Look  there,  man.  You  can  never 
do  it." 

"  Get  out  of  my  way,"  cried  Homer, 
furiously.  "  D'ye  think  there's  nothing 
I  can  do  ?  If  I  go  to  the  devil,  what's 
that  to  you  ?  " 

He  seized  the  tiller  and,  obedient  to 
his  will,  the  Georgiana,  with  a  graceful 
dip,  began  to  glide  from  the  dock.  A 
strange  look  of  comprehension,  half  in- 
credulous, half  resentful,  flashed  over 
Sidney's  face  ;  the  next  instant  he  leaped 
the  widening  streak  of  water  and  alighted 
in  the  boat.  Turning  his  back  to  Horner 
he  gazed  seriously  ahead,  keeping  his 
thoughts,  whatever  they  might  be,  to 
himself. 

The  dense  cloud  that  had  piled  itself 
up  in  the  west  now  rolled  a  long  arm 
across  the  sun.  From  under  its  curled 
edges  a  sickly  light  fell,  causing  the  caps 
of  the  rising  waves  to  show  lurid  against 
the  horizon.  Each  rock  and  headland, 


94  STORIES   OF  THE  SEA 

every  house  and  tree,  stood  out  in  sharp 
relief;  the  landscape  looked  ghastly  and 
unnatural.  All  the  little  craft  had  scur- 
ried home  in  haste,  but  here  and  there  a 
schooner  lay  under  bare  poles,  her  men 
working  briskly  to  stow  every  rag  of  can- 
vas. 

As  the  Georgiana  emerged  from  the 
shelter  of  the  cliff,  the  wind  swooped 
down  Upon  her,  seizing  and  shaking  her 
violently,  but  after  a  moment's  shivering 
pause  she  tore  on  with  her  boom  plough- 
ing the  water.  A  fisherman  running 
along  the  shore  shouted  to  her.  An- 
other, high  on  the  rocks,  made  a  trumpet 
of  his  hands,  and  when  his  words  were 
whisked  away  by  the  wind,  pointed  ve- 
hemently to  the  sky. 

Homer  noticed  with  savage  joy  that 
Sidney  was  quite  pale  and  sat  with  eyes 
intent  and  tight  lips.  He  himself  seemed 
mad.  The  whistling  wind,  the  dash 
through  the  waves,  the  straining  sail  and 


THE   FATE   OF   THE   GEORGIANA     95 


cordage,  filled  him  with  fierce  delight. 
But  suddenly  Sidney  turned  and  looked 
him  in  the  face,  a  long,  silent  look  of 
questioning ;  then  sprang  up,  whipped 
out  his  knife,  and  cut  a  rope.  The  main- 
sail fell  and  Horner  woke  from  his  de- 
lirium, too  late. 

The  focus  of  the  storm  had  reached 
them.  A  shrieking  gust  tore  off  the  jib 
and  whirling  it  away  let  them  see  it  flut- 
tering like  a  white  bird  far  over  the  dark 
bay.  The  wet  sail  hung  low  ;  the  trem- 
bling Georgiana,  careening,  shipping  sea 
after  sea,  yielded  to  another  blast  and 
went  over. 

Horner  had  barely  time  to  kick  off  his 
shoes  when  he  flew  out  into  space,  and 
his  thought  as  he  struck  the  churning 
water  was  that  Sidney  could  not  swim. 

What  happened  next  he  never  dis- 
tinctly remembered.  He  found  himself, 
panting  and  bruised,  hanging  to  the 
Georgiana  with  one  hand  and  desper- 


96  STORIES   OF  THE  SEA 

ately  clutching    Sidney's  coat  with    the 
other. 

They  scrambled  up  and  laid  hold  of  the 
centre-board. 

IV. 

THE  bottom  of  a  capsized  boat,  rolling 
and  tossing  on  a  stormy  sea,  is  at  best  a 
slippery  perch.  As  the  two  men  clung  to 
it,  Homer  felt  instinctively — for  neither 
could  speak — that  Sidney's  strength  could 
not  keep  him  there  unaided,  and  he  threw 
his  body  forward  as  well  as  he  could  to 
support  part  of  Sidney's  weight  and  serve 
him  as  a  bulwark.  This  greatly  increased 
the  strain  on  his  own  arms,  but  he  was 
strong.  He  had  need  to  be. 

The  rain  fell  in  heavy  sheets,  beating 
them  down  and  nearly  drowning  them. 
It  beat  down  the  waves  too,  somewhat, 
until  at  last,  when  almost  exhausted  be- 
tween the  tumultuous  floods  below  and 
the  pouring  floods  above,  they  felt  them- 


THE    FATE    OF    THE    GEORGIANA      97 


selves  drifting  into  calmer  water.  They 
were  under  the  lee  of  a  sea-girt  Dump- 
ling, whose  sombre  bulk,  indistinctly  seen 
above  them,  broke  the  force  of  the  storm. 
Some  portion  of  the  Georgiana's  sub- 
merged rigging  caught  upon  the  rocks 
below  the  surface,  and  here  she  stayed, 
rocking  back  and  forth,  perilously  near 
the  island  cliff  where  she  would  dash  her 
slight  frame  to  pieces,  but  never  quite 
reaching  it,  held  by  her  chance  moorings, 
whose  strength  none  could  gauge. 

As  night  came  on,  the  rain  ceased  and 
the  wind  with  it,  but  land,  sea,  and  sky, 
were  all  alike  of  ink.  Even  the  Dump- 
ling, at  once  their  protector  and  their 
most  dreaded  enemy,  was  but  a  deeper 
black  upon  the  blackness  that  surrounded 
them.  The  men  breathed  more  easily, 
but  dared  not  relax  their  hold,  for  with- 
out warning,  out  of  the  darkness,  some 
huge  breaker  would  every  now  and  then 
roll  over  them.  Homer  had  managed  to 


98  STORIES   OF   THE  SEA 

get  his  companion's  head  upon  his  breast, 
and  as  Sidney  rested  so,  Homer  felt  sure 
that  it  was  because  of  inability  to  move. 
Probably  the  mast,  or  other  part  of  the 
boat  had  dealt  him  a  disabling  blo\v  as 
they  upset. 

Lying  thus,  through  painful,  speech- 
less hours,  did  Horner  feel  that  he  held 
his  fate  in  his  arms,  and  ask  himself  why 
he  spent  his  strength  and  lessened  his 
chances  of  life  for  this  man,  the  thought  of 
whom,  so  short  a  time  ago,  had  filled  him 
with  frenzy  ?  Who  shall  say  ?  Men  are 
both  worse  and  better  than  they  know. 

If  he  had  acted  with  blind  impulse 
when  they  were  struggling  in  the  water, 
he  had  ample  time  to  think  now.  If  he 
should  let  the  next  wave  sweep  them 
from  the  boat — he  could  swim.  Or,  if 
he  simply  opened  his  arms  -  they  were 
cramped  and  stiff— what  would  happen  ? 
Who  could  blame  him  ?  Wrho  would 
know  ? 


THE    FATE   OF   THE   GEORGIANA     99 


Once  safe  on  land  with  Georgie,  and 
Sidney  and  all  his  intolerable  benefac- 
tions at  the  bottom  of  the  sea — where  is 
the  man  who  is  not  sure  a  girl  could 
readily  be  made  to  love  him  if  only  that 
other  man  were  out  of  the  way  ? 

The  surging  of  the  waves  about  them 
and  the  echo  from  the  rocks  ;  the  sound 
of  the  storm-bell's  faint  and  monotonous 
clang  ;  the  groaning  of  the  tortured  Geor- 
giana  as  she  seemed  to  swing  through  a 
fathomless  abyss  of  night  and  darkness  ; 
and  all  the  hundred  indefinite,  dismal 
noises  of  the  deep — it  needs  something 
more  than  these  to  drown  the  voice  of  the 
tempter  in  a  man's  ear. 

Horner's  grasp  had  not  loosened,  but 
it  tightened  quickly  as  Sidney's  voice 
broke  weakly  through  these  dreary  ca- 
dences. 

"I  don't  know  what  keeps  us  here.  If 
it  is  a  rope,  it  will  'soon  fray  and  then 
nothing  can  save  us.  Homer — you  can 


100  STORIES   OF   THE  SEA 

swim — make  your  way  to  the  rock  while 
you  can.  Why  should  both  die  ?  " 

It  seemed  a  long  time  to  Horner  be- 
fore he  managed  to  answer  : 

"  You  can't  swim." 

"  I  might  make  shift,"  Sidney  an- 
swered ;  "  I  do  swim  a  little.  But  I  think 
this  arm  is  broken,  I  cannot  move  it" 

Horner  heard  himself  reply : 

"  While  the  rope  holds,  we'll  stay." 

By  and  by  the  night  grew  lighter.  But 
as  the  sullen  clouds  parted  and  through 
v  narrow  rifts  a  few  stars  threw  long, 
broken  reflections  upon  the  heaving 
waves,  they  brought  no  cheer  with  them. 
They  rather  served  to  emphasize  the 
gloomy  gulfs,  the  drear  immensities  of 
space,  among  which  two  men  and  a  little 
boat  were  so  incalculably  insignificant. 
Horner  was  the  first  to  speak  again. 

"Sidney,  we  have  been  friends  a  long 
time." 

"Yes." 


THE   FATE   OF   THE   GEORGIANA      IOI 

Sidney  was  in  pain  and  very  tired. 

"  You  have  laid  me  under  many  obliga- 
tions," Horner  went  on,  with  growing 
steadiness.  "  I  had  no  right  to  take 
them.  I've  been  a  fool.  This  upset  is 
my  fault,  but  you  had  no  business  to 
come.  Now  answer  me  one  question. 
Do  you  love  her  or  not  ?  "  Sidney  tried 
to  lift  his  head  from  Horner's  shoulder 
and  sit  up  ;  he  tried  to  free  himself  from 
Horner's  supporting  arm.  Failing,  he 
turned  his  widely  opened  eyes  up  to  the 
haggard  face  close  above  him,  and  said, 
simply  : 

"  If  you  let  go  of  me,  Horner,  I  shall 
drown." 

"  I  did  not  ask  you  that,"  said  Horner, 
sharply  ;  "  I  know  it.  And  if  that  rope 
breaks  we  may  both  be  dead  in  half  an 
houi\  Now  answer  me.  Do  you  love 
her  or  not?  " 

"  You  know  that  too,"  said  Sidney. 

"  Does  she  love  you  ?  " 


STORIES   OF   THE   SEA 


"  I  don't  know." 

"  Tell  me  the  truth — in  the  face  of 
death." 

"  It  is  the  truth.     I  do  not  know. " 

He  stopped,  then  said  quite  steadily  : 

"  I  have  thought— at  times — she  cared 
for  you." 

"  Oh,  no."  Horner's  answer  was  a 
bitter  laugh.  He  had  forgotten  for  the 
moment  where  he  was,  and  saw  only 
Georgie's  indignant  face  when  he  left  her 
that  afternoon.  A  rolling  swell  recalled 
him,  and  when  it  had  passed  Sidney 
spoke. 

"  I  did  not  know  until  I  saw  you  in  the 
boat  that  you  cared.  I  suppose  the 
thought  had  come  to  me,  but  I  turned 
from  it.  Then  I  knew.  For  a  moment 
I  hoped  you  would  go  out.  That  is  why 
I  came.  I've  done  no  good,  but  I 
couldn't  stop  you  and— I  dared  not  let 
you  go  alone.  I  want  you  to  know  that  if 
I  get  back  I  mean  to  ask  her  to  marry  me." 


THE   FATE   OF   THE   GEORGIANA     103 

"  If  I  thought  you  wouldn't,"  Homer 
cried,  "  I'd  drown  you  now.  Man — she 
loves  you." 

It  was  evidently  very  hard  for  Sidney 
to  speak  at  all.  His  voice  grew  feebler, 
but  he  went  on  with  resolution  : 

"  I  want  you  to  know  this,  and  I  want 
you  to  know  that  if  I  won't  take  any  de- 
cision but  hers,  I'll  abide  by  that.  If— if 
she  doesn't  care  for  me,  I'll  go  away  and 
give  you  a  chance. " 

"  I've  got  no  chance,"  said  Homer. 
"  You  can't  give  it  to  me.  I  tell  you  she 
loves  you" — how  he  turned  the  knife  in 
his  own  wound  !  "  If  I  distrusted  you — 
but  I  don't.  I  know  you  are  true.  And 
if  I  get  to  land,  so  help  me  God,  you 
shall — for  her.  But  if  ever  you  change,  if 
you're  not  good  to  her,  I'll  come  back,  I'll 
come  back,  if  it's  from  the  ends  of  the 
earth,  and  I'll  kill  you." 

Sidney  made  no  reply.  Homer  could 
not  tell  if  he  had  heard. 


104  STORIES   OF   THE   SEA 

The  clouds  had  broken,  drawing  off  in 
shadowy  masses  as  a  pale  yellow  light 
stole  upward  in  the  east  Against  its 
growing  flush  the  cold  waves  rose  and 
fell,  and  with  them  the  boat  and  the  two 
benumbed  men.  Gradually  the  grim 
face  of  the  cliff  softened  until  it  shone 
with  reflected  glows  of  morning. 

Out  of  the  darkest  hour  of  his  life  calm 
had  come  to  Horner's  breast.  As  Sid- 
ney's helpless  head  lay  pillowed  there,  a 
something  he  could  not  name,  nor  fully 
understand,  filled  his  struggling,  torn,  ex- 
hausted soul  with  peace. 

He  had  seen  the  vision  of  a  fair  garden 
that  he  was  not  to  enter :  he  had  helped 
to  push  another  in  and  to  shut  the  gates 
upon  himself.  Yet  the  strife  and  turmoil  ' 
of  the  night  had  dropped  away.  A  dawn 
was  breaking  whose  radiance  he  had 
never  known  before. 


STORIES   OF  THE   SEA 


V. 

"  I  NEVER  would  ha*  believed  it  if  I 
hadn't  seen  it.  The  cloud  then  was 
a-comin'  up  like  a  racer.  I  run  along 
the  rocks  an'  yelled,  but  I  knowed  they 
couldn'  hear  me." 

Two  cowering  women  listened  to  the 
oracle  and  started,  shivering,  as  each 
whip-lash  of  lightning,  sharper  than  the 
last,  cracked  across  the  sky. 

They  were  in  the  cottage  dining-room, 
where,  through  the  immense  window  that 
filled  its  whole  seaward  wall,  they  saw 
much  more  than  they  liked  of  the  tem- 
pest's fury. 

Dick  was  looked  for  that  evening,  and 
Julia  had  sent  in  much  anxiety  for  Bates, 
to  confer  upon  the  best  means  of  getting 
him  up  from  the  Landing.  The  usual 
way,  by  boat,  was  quite  impracticable, 
for  even  should  the  storm  cease,  the 


THE   FATE   OF   THE   GEORGIANA      107 


waves  would  run  high  until  morning. 
Bates  came,  in  evident  excitement. 

His  emotions  were  all  so  deeply  subter- 
ranean, and  any  hint  of  them  upon  the 
surface  was  so  unusual,  that  Julia  vaguely 
took  the  alarm,  thinking  only  of  her  hus- 
band. But  Georgie  looked  into  the  boat- 
man's rugged  face  and  cried,  "  What  is 
it,  Bates  ?  What  has  happened  ?  " 

Then  they  heard  it  in  a  burst  of  feeling. 
The  Georgiana  was  out,  the  two  men  in 
her.  The  Lord  only  knew  what  would 
come  of  it. 

Georgie's  face  grew  suddenly  as  gray 
as  the  solid  wall  of  rain  that  now  shut 
out  all  the  world  save  one  rocky  Dump- 
ling, where  foam  and  spray  were  leap- 
ing. It  was  Julia  who  exclaimed  : 

"  But  what  will  they  do  ?  How  dread- 
ful !  " 

' '  I  dunno  what  they  will  do.  They 
ain't  had  time  to  make  the  breakwater. 
I've  been  a-sailin'  Mr.  Sidney  for  five 


THE  FATB  OF  THE  GBORGIANA   109 


years  and  more,  an'  I  ain't  never  knowed 
him  do  no  sech  fool  trick  before.  An' 
that  there  Mr.  Horner,  he  'peared  useter 
the  water.  I  give  him  credit  for  more 
sense.  He  kin  sail  a  boat  tolerbul,  for  a 
amatoor.  But  they  can't  ne'er  a  one  of 
'em  run  the  Georgiana — an  old  patched- 
up  thing  like  she  be — in  this  blow.  She'll 
sink,  sure's  I  say  it." 

A  clap  of  thunder  covered  the  cry  that 
Georgie  uttered,  but  she  started  to  the 
door  with  such  unmistakable  intention 
that  Julia  caught  her  arm.  "You  can't 
do  anything,  Georgie,"  she  cried,  aghast 
at  the  girl's  face.  "  Don't  be  crazy." 

"Oh,  Julia,  how  can  you  hold  me? 
Let  me  go.  I  will  go,  I  tell  you  !  They 
will  drown.  I  can  save  him.  I  can  row." 

She  pulled  open  the  door,  and  the  en- 
tering blast  took  away  her  breath.  She 
struggled  with  it  vainly  a  moment,  then 
dropped  upon  a  chair.  Bates  shut  the 
door  and  turned  to  Julia. 


110  STORIES   OF   THE   SEA 

"  I  kin  take  a  boat  an'  go  out  an'  row 
round.  But  it  won't  help  them  none  for 
me  to  git  spilt,  an'  there  ain't  no  boat 
built  could  live  while  this  racket  lasts. 
No.  They're  either  run  in  behind  the  fort, 

or  gone  up  the  bay,  or "  He  left  the 

sentence  unfinished  for  a  suggestive  mo- 
ment, then  added,  "  I'll  see  to  gittin1  Mr. 
Kimball  with  the  wagon  all  right  An' 
I'll  ask  roun'  at  the  Landin' — maybe  they 
put  in  there.  Don't  you  fret,  Mis'  Kim- 
ball." 

"  There,  Georgie,"  cried  Julia,  catch- 
ing at  straws,  "it's  all  right.  They  are 
at  the  Landing.  We  are  worrying  for 
nothing." 

"Anyway  we  can't  help  'em  now," 
muttered  Bates,  as  he  walked  away. 
"  But  they  wasn't  aheadin'  that  way  when 
I  see  "em." 

Georgie  said  nothing.  She  sank  slowly 
upon  her  knees  in  the  wide  window  and 
watched  the  sweeping  gale.  Julia  left 


THE   FATE   OF   THE   GEORGIANA      III 

herself  growing  hysterical.  Why  was  the 
girl  so  moved  ? 

The  children  and  their  early  tea  and 
bedtime  created  a  diversion.  Julia  was 
glad  to  busy  herself  with  them,  and  as  the 
storm  frightened  them  she  sat  upstairs  a 
long  time,  until  they  fell  asleep. 

But  when  she  went  down  Georgie  still 
knelt  where  she  had  left  her,  her  white 
dress  gleaming  in  the  darkness,  her  face 
framed  in  her  hands  against  the  pane, 
and  her  eyes  straining  into  the  black 
night,  over  the  waste  of  tumbling  waters 
dimly  discerned  below. 

It  was  an  unspeakable  relief  to  hear  the 
sounds  of  Dick's  arrival,  but  when  she 
ran  to  let  him  in,  the  boom  of  surf  upon 
the  shore  entered  with  him,  so  loud  and 
angry  that,  although  the  wind  had  ceased, 
she  trembled  and  was  silent.  Dick  came 
in  as  if  nothing  had  happened,  but  he 
looked  amazed  when  he  saw  Georgie. 
She  had  risen  and  turned  to  him  in  mute 


112  STORIES   OF   THE   SEA 

appeal  He  watched  her  furtively,  but 
spoke  with  resolute  cheerfulness.  Yes, 
Bates  had  told  him.  High  old  storm, 
wasn't  it?  Poor  little  woman,  scared 
almost  to  death  ?  No,  they  were  not  at 
the  Landing  ;  why  should  they  be  ?  They 
would  go  to  Newport,  of  course,  and  get 
a  good  supper  and  be  vastly  amused 
to-morrow  when  they  heard  how  fright- 
ened   But  Dick  stopped  there.  The 

good  fellow  could  not  keep  it  up.  Bates 
had  told  him  too  much.  He  went  up  to 
Georgie  and  took  her  cold  hands. 

"  My  dear  little  girl,"  he  said,  affec- 
tionately, "  you  are  very  much  over- 
wrought. The  storm  has  upset  you " 

But  she  shook  her  head. 

"No  —  no,"  she  whispered.  "You 
don't  know " 

"  What?  "  he  said,  gravely.  "  Do  you 
care  so  much  ?  " 

"  I  love  him,  Dick, "her  white  lips  framed 
noiselessly  ;  "  I  love  him  and  he " 


THE   FATE   OF   THE   GEORGIANA      113 

She  hid  her  face,  and  Dick,  drawing 
her  to  his  shoulder,  had  no  heart  to  ask 
more.  He  soothed  her  gently,  though 
perplexed  enough.  By  and  by  he  found 
a  chance  to  murmur  aside  to  Julia, 
"Which?"  But  Julia  only  looked  at 
him  reproachfully,  and  he  was  none  the 
wiser. 

It  was  curious  how,  although  they  said 
over  and  over  that  the  men  were  safe  in 
Newport,  at  Fort  Adams,  up  the  bay  ; 
that  there  was  no  reason  to  be  alarmed  ; 
yet  at  the  first  hint  of  light  they  were 
down  upon  the  beach  with  a  dozen 
others,  boatmen  and  fishermen,  all  anx- 
ious to  give  advice  and  have  someone 
else  act  on  it.  To  take  boats  and  go  out 
and  row  up  and  down— what  was  the 
good?  Yet  it  seemed  better  to  do  that 
than  to  do  nothing,  and  they  waited  only 
for  more  daylight  before  starting.  Bates's 
years  of  service  had  made  him  really  fond 
of  Sidney,  and  he  wandered  anxiously 


114  STORIES   OF   THE   SEA 


along  the  shore,  scanning  the  water  with 
practised  eyes.  Suddenly  he  turned  and 
came  tearing  back.  Dick  ran  to  meet 
him. 

"What?  Where?"  he  cried.  But 
Bates  would  not  stop  to  answer. 

"  I  dunno.  I  dunno.  I'm  goin*  out. 
I  want  two  strong  fellers  with  me." 

Two  were  promptly  ready,  and  Dick 
jumped  in  too,  as  the  boat  pushed  off. 

What  Bates  had  seen  was  the  hull  of 
the  Georgiana  pounding  about  behind  a 
corner  of  the  Dumpling,  but  he  was  not 
sure  if  there  was  anything  on  it,  or  not. 

The  men  had  to  skirt  all  around  the 
jagged  islet  to  avoid  its  fringe  of  rocks 
and  breakers.  It  seemed  a  long  pull  to 
them  with  its  uncertainty,  but  longer  to 
the  two  women  who  stood  on  shore  and 
watched  them  slowly  disappear.  Long- 
est of  all  was  the  time  before  the  boat 
came  back,  creeping  from  behind  the 
rocks,  turning  landward,  now  seen,  now 


Il6  STORIES   OF   THE   SEA 

hidden  by  some  combing  wave.  The 
men  were  bending  to  their  oars  with  a 
will,  and  Dick  and  Bates  were  bending 
too,  over  something  heavy,  dark  and  mo- 
tionless, in  the  stern. 

"  Are  they  alive  ?  Is  it  one,  or  two?  " 
were  the  questions  Julia  dared  not  utter, 
as  she  felt  Georgie's  hands  clinch  con- 
vulsively upon  her  arm. 

The  boat  came  in,  and  the  waiting 
group  of  men  ran  out  through  the  waves 
to  meet  it, 

Sidney  was  lifted  out  unconscious. 
Horner's  eyes  were  closed,  but  as  he  was 
borne  ashore  they  opened  and  roved 
eagerly  from  face  to  face.  Finally,  as  he 
was  laid  upon  the  sand,  they  rested  upon 
Georgie  and  filled  with  sudden  light.  He 
struggled  to  raise  himself  upon  his  elbow. 

"  Don't  fear,"  he  gasped,  "  I  have 
saved  him  for  you."  The  exertion  was 
too  much,  and  he  sank  again.  Georgie 
stretched  out  her  arms.  She  uttered  a 


THE   FATE   OF   THE   GEORGIANA      117 


sound  between  a  laugh  and  a  sob.  Then 
she  dropped  upon  her  knees  and  hid  her 
face. 

VI. 

SIDNEY'S  condition  was  thought  criti- 
cal for  a  day  or  two,  and  Horner  would 
not  leave  him.  Besides,  Horner  needed 
some  little  time  to  recover  his  own  tone 
after  such  a  strain.  But  at  last,  one 
morning  when  the  early  air  was  fresh  and 
sweet,  he  stepped  out  upon  the  breezy 
hillside. 

He  wore  what  he  was  accustomed  to 
call  his  town  clothes,  and  he  carried  a 
bag  in  his  hand.  He  walked  across  the 
grass  to  the  Kimballs*  cottage,  but  he  did 
not  go  in.  He  did  not  even  step  upon 
the  familiar  balcony.  He  stood  looking 
at  it  a  moment,  then  turned  and  faced  the 
sea. 

Again  that  blue  plain  lay  before  him, 
dimpling  as  innocently  as  a  smiling  child. 


Il8  STORIES   OF  THE   SEA 

Doubt,  storms,  despair — none  of  these 
could  exist  in  such  a  shining  world. 

Happiness  was  there,  and  peace — yes, 
and  love. 

His  breast  heaved.  Something  low 
and  inarticulate  escaped  him.  Then  he 
caught  up  his  bag,  lifted  his  face  once  to 
the  cottage  windows,  and  strode  heavily 
down  the  hill 

One  of  the  window  -  blinds  shook ;  it 
opened  a  little  and  a  girl's  face,  wonder- 
ing, pale,  peeped  out.  Homer  did  not 
see  it.  He  walked  fast,  then  faster  ;  by 
and  by  he  began  to  run. 

A  whistle  sounded  from  the  wharf,  still 
distant.  It  was  the  early  boat,  warning 
her  passengers  that  she  was  about  to 
start  Horner  could  easily  have  let  it  go 
without  him,  but  just  as  the  plank  was 
drawn  in,  he  came  down  the  bank  full 
speed  and  leaped  aboard. 

He  stood  outside  as  the  puffing  little 
ferryboat  rounded  the  tall,  white  light- 


THE  FATE   OF   THE   GEORGIANA      lip 


house  on  the  breakwater.  The  sun  shone 
brightly  on  Conanicut,  on  the  steep 
Dumplings,  and  the  red  roofs  of  the  cot- 
tages, half  hidden  behind  the  grassy 
slopes.  Then  the  boat  swung  round, 
and  Homer  saw  nothing  but  the  dancing 
sea. 

A  few  hours  later  he  was  in  his  rooms 
in  town. 

Sidney  found  a  note  upon  the  hall  table 
and  read  it  when  he  came  to  breakfast. 
It  was  short,  not  more  than  a  line,  but  he 
thought  it  over  all  the  morning. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  he  managed, 
with  some  assistance,  to  dress  himself  in 
his  usual  clothes  and  went  across  to  the 
other  cottage.  Entering  unannounced, 
he  came  upon  Georgie  sitting  idly  in  a 
window.  She  sprang  up  as  he  entered, 
and  he  suddenly  found  that  he  could  not 
trust  himself  to  speak.  He  had  not  re- 
gained his  strength,  and  the  walk  had 
been  more  of  an  exertion  than  he  knew, 


120  STORIES   OF   THE   SEA 

but  what  stirred  him  most  was  the  change 
in  Georgie. 

The  girl  was  very  pale,  and  her  eyes 
looked  dark  and  sunken  ;  her  lips,  too, 
were  working  nervously,  as  if  she  wished 
to  speak,  but  could  not. 

It  was  evident  that  she  had  suffered, 
and  Sidney  felt  that  he  had  come  ex- 
pressly to  ask  her  why  ;  but  the  answer 
to  this  question  meant  so  much  to  him 
that  he  could  not  put  it.  Thus  two  agi- 
tated people  faced  each  other  for  a  brief 
moment,  each  striving  for  composure. 
Its  outward  semblance  came  first  to  Geor- 
gie, and  she  said,  bravely  : 

"  I  am  glad  to  see  you  so  much  better, 
Mr.  Sidney." 

For  an  instant  Sidney  felt  as  if  he  had 
received  another  blow.  Then  he  braced 
himself,  looked  straight  at  her,  and  said, 
directly  : 

"  I  came  to  ask  you  something.  I  hope 
you  know  what  it  is.  But  first,  I  must  say 


THE   FATE   OF   THE   GEORGIANA      121 

this  :  Homer  saved  my  life.  But  for  him 
I  should  have  been  drowned." 

"  Oh,  what  possessed  you  ?  "  cried  the 
girl,  her  composure  vanishing;  "what 
made  you  go  out  in  such  a  storm  ?  " 

Sidney  looked  down. 

"  I  thought  I  could  help  him,  but  I  did 
not.  I  was  made  helpless  myself.  He 
held  me  on  the  boat.  I  told  him  if  I  came 
to  land  I  should  tell  you." 

She  did  not  ask  him  why,  and  when  he 
noticed  this  he  stopped.  He  felt  that  she 
was  not  thinking  of  him  at  all.  And  he 
was  right.  Horner's  panting  words  upon 
the  beach  ;  Horner's  face  raised  mutely 
to  her  window ;  these,  and  that  rough 
question,  "Are  you  fooling  him  —  and 
me  ?  "  had  haunted  Georgie's  thoughts 
all  day,  and  now  a  feeling  of  being  forced 
to  the  wall  and  turning  at  bay  swept  over 
her. 

"  I  am  to  blame,"  she  cried,  abruptly. 
"It  is  my  fault.  If  it  had  not  been  for 


122  STORIES   OF   THE  SEA 

me,  he  would  not  have  gone  out.  But 
the  time  has  come  to  speak  the  truth. 
He  went  away  this  morning.  Why?  " 

Sidney  looked  at  her  without  speak- 
ing. 

"Was  it  sudden  business?"  she  per- 
severed. 

Still  looking  at  her,  Sidney  answered, 
"No." 

"Then  why  —  why,"  she  exclaimed, 

"  why  did  he  go  when  he  knew "  Her 

resolution  failed  her,  and  with  a  scarlet 
blush  she  turned  quickly  oft 

At  least  Sidney  knew. 

The  light  from  the  window  touched  her 
hair  and  all  the  soft  curves  and  outlines 
of  her  pretty  figure.  He  could  see  her 
hands  clasped  tight  against  her  breast, 
and  without  seeing  could  feel  the  tears 
that  only  her  strong  effort  held  from  fall- 
ing. Yet  what  he  said  was  : 

"  He  did  not  know.  He  went  because 
he  did  not  know." 


THE   FATE   OF   THE   GEORGIANA      123 

His  voice  sounded  low  and  even.  It 
gave  no  hint  of  pain  or  passion.  But 
suddenly,  as  if  they  had  just  leaped  into 
sight,  he  saw  every  article  in  the  room : 
each  rug  upon  the  floor,  each  picture  on 
the  walls,  every  commonplace  chair  and 
table,  every  defect,  scratch,  or  disarrange- 
ment. As  long  as  he  lived  he  could  recall 
every  trivial  detail.  Then  over  all  fell  a 
mist  in  which  Georgie's  figure  seemed  to 
float  away  from  him,  and  in  a  voice  that 
seemed  to  himself  strange  and  remote,  he 
asked  : 

"  Shall  I  write  to  him  to  come  back  ?  " 
and  when  she  did  not  answer,  he  added, 
"  to  you  ?  " 

Then  Georgie  said,  very  low,  but  ah, 
how  distinctly : 

"  Yes,"  and  he  did  not  need  to  look  at 
her  to  know  that  she  was  happy. 

This  knowledge,  that  might  have  mad- 
dened some  men,  softened  him.  He 
went  up  to  her  and  held  out  his  hand, 


124  STORIES   OF   THE   SEA 

and  though  he  was  pale,  he  spoke  stead- 
ily, like  a  man. 

"  Will  you  say  good-by  ?  I  may  not 
see  you  again." 

"  Oh !  "  cried  the  girl,  turning  quickly 
to  remonstrate  ;  but  when  she  saw  him, 
she  stopped  and  hung  her  head.  She 
seemed  about  to  speak,  but  finally  gave 
him  her  hand  in  silence. 

"  I  will  write  to  him  at  once,"  he  prom- 
ised her.  "  Good-by." 

He  held  her  hand  a  moment,  said 
again,  "  Good-by, "  and  when  she  could 
see,  he  was  gone. 

Horner  had  made  up  his  mind  that  the 
city  was  unendurable,  and  that  if  he  spent 
another  night  in  his  hot  and  stifling  rooms 
he  should  shoot  himself.  He  resolved  on 
a  run  into  the  country  somewhere,  and 
smarted  for  any  train  he  could  catch. 

At  the  street  corner  he  met  his  postman 
and  took  from  him  this  note  : 


THE   FATE    OF   THE   GEORGIANA      125 


"  DEAR  H ,  I  sail  at  noon  on  the 

Umbria.  Let  to-morrow  find  you  in 
Conanicut.  Bates  has  all  necessary  or- 
ders. 

"Yours,  H.  S. 

"  P.  S. — I  go  to  study  for  a  year  or  two 
in  Rome." 


CAPTAIN    BLACK 

BY  CHARLES  E.  CARRYU 


MR.  GEORGE  FARNHAM,  counsellor-at- 
law,  having  devoted  ten  years  of  his  life 
to  the  remunerative  toil  of  entangling  cer- 
tain persons  in,  and  extricating  certain 
others  from,  the  meshes  of  the  law,  found 
himself,  at  the  age  of  thirty-five,  with  a 
respectable  balance  in  bank  and  a  pro- 
nounced craving  for  rest  and  recreation. 
Summer  was  coming  on,  the  courts  would 
soon  be  closed,  and  a  torpor  was  settling 
down  upon  the  field  of  litigation,  and  the 
idea  of  a  vacation  abroad  presented  itself 
to  his  mind  with  alluring  force.  He  was 
weary  of  briefs  and  bills  of  exceptions ; 
his  office  was  taking  on,  to  his  jaded 
eyes,  an  aspect  of  dreary  dinginess  that 
promised  to  become  unendurable  in  the 
near  future,  and  the  long  rows  of  buff- 
clad  digests  and  revised  statutes  seemed 


I30 


STORIES   OF   THE   SEA 


to  glare  down  upon  him  from  their 
shelves,  like  wolves  in  sheep's  clothing, 
with  grim  suggestions  of  long  nights  of 
toil.  Under  these  impelling  influences 
he  turned  his 
back  upon  the 
law,  packed  a 
portmanteau, 
and  found 
himself  upon 
a  bright  morn- 
ne  on  the  steam- 
L,  fairly  commit- 
hree  months'  so- 
breign  parts. 
As  the  hour  of  sailing 
drew  near  he  stood  on 
the  hurricane  deck,  leaning  against  the 
rail  and  watching  with  lively  inter- 
est the  animated  scene  on  the  pier  be- 
low. A  double  line  of  passengers  and 
their  friends  was  thronging  up  and  down 
the  gangway  giving  access  to  the  lower 


CAPTAIN   BLACK  131 

deck,  a  crowd  of  spectators,  idlers,  and 
itinerant  vendors  of  steamer-chairs  and 
other  comforts  of  the  sea  was  swarming 
below  him  on  the  pier,  and  a  number  of 
agile  cabin-stewards  in  blue  jackets  were 
rushing  up  and  down  a  supplemental  gang- 
way, bringing  aboard  an  endless  variety 
of  steamer-trunks,  hand-bags,  and  bun- 
dled rugs.  Carriages  drove  up,  dis- 
charged their  living  freight  and  made 
their  way  back  through  the  surging  crowd 
amid  volleys  of  imprecations ;  while  the 
decks  of  the  steamer  swarmed  with  peo- 
ple chattering,  scolding,  and  weeping 
farewells  with  the  feverish  vehemence 
peculiar  to  such  occasions.  Farnham, 
enjoying  the  spectacle  with  all  the  relish 
of  a  school-boy  abandoning  his  books  for 
a  time,  turned  to  a  fellow-passenger  who 
stood  beside  him  at  the  rail,  and  re- 
marked, "  A  busy  scene,  sir." 

"I  should  call  it  a  bedlam,"  said  the 
other,  without    looking    up.      ' '  I    never 


132  STORIES   OF   THE  SEA 

could  understand  the  insane  curiosity  that 
impels  people  remaining  at  home  to  sub- 
ject themselves  to  the  most  unpleasant 
feature  of  going  abroad." 

"  Meaning  the  crowd?"  inquired  Farn- 
ham. 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  other,  shortly,  "  the 
rabble,  the  deafening  racket,  the  infernal 
discomfort  of  the  whole  business ;  "  with 
which  he  turned  abruptly  and  walked 
away  as  if  not  in  the  mood  for  further 
conversation. 

Farnham,  at  complacent  peace  with 
himself  and  with  the  world,  looked  after 
him  with  good-humored  surprise.  He 
was  a  tallish  man  of  powerful  build, 
with  a  full  brown  beard  and  hair  slight- 
ly marked  with  gray,  exceedingly  well 
dressed,  and  having  the  unmistakable 
bearing  of  a  man  of  the  world.  By  a 
momentary  glimpse  of  his  face  as  he 
turned  away,  Farnham  saw  that  he  had 
regular  features,  a  dark  complexion,  and 


134  STORIES   OF  THE   SEA 

a  certain  self-contained  expression  that 
was  not  altogether  prepossessing.  As  he 
disappeared  in  the  crowd  Farnham  turned 
again  and  resumed  his  watch  of  the  scene 
below. 

At  this  moment  the  bell  for  "all 
ashore  "  was  rung,  and  the  crowd  on  the 
gangway  began  to  resolve  itself  into  a 
stream  bound  shoreward,  occasionally 
broken  by  a  belated  passenger  hurriedly 
making  his  way  upward  through  the  liv- 
ing tide.  Then  the  stream  dwindled  to  a 
few  stragglers,  and  finally  to  the  in- 
evitable last  man,  scrambling  downward 
while  the  gangway  was  swinging  in  the 
slings ;  the  long  plank  was  lowered  and 
cast  off,  a  mighty  pulse  began  to  throb 
beneath  Farnham's  feet,  and  the  great 
ship  backed  majestically  out  of  the  slip 
amid  a  tempest  of  shouts  of  farewell. 

It  was  at  this  instant  that  Farnham's 
attention  was  attracted  to  a  cab  that  came 
rattling  along  the  pier,  scattering  the 


CAPTAIN   BLACK 


135 


crowd  in  every  direction.  As  it  drew  up 
at  the  gangway  opening,  a  man  sprang 
out  and  crying  frantically,  "  Stop !  stop !  " 
rushed  to  the  edge  of  the  pier  and  began 
running  back  and  forth  upon  the  string- 
piece  as  if  meditating  a  desperate  attempt 
to  leap  out  and  clutch  at  the  side  of  the 
receding  ship.  A  roar  of  derisive  laughter 
burst  from  the  bystanders  as  this  prepos- 
terous intention  became  evident,  and  two 
of  the  wharf  hands  seized  the  distracted 
man  and  roughly  dragged  him  back, 
struggling  and 
protesting,  until 
he  was  lost  to  view 
in  the  crowd  that 
surged  about  him. 
Farnham  fancied, 
from  a  sudden  ex- 
pression on  his 
fac e  as  he  was 
dragged  away, 
that  he  had  recog- 


136  STORIES  OF   THE  SEA 

nized  some  one  on  the  upper  deck,  and 
glancing  around  involuntarily,  discovered 
the  bearded  passenger  standing  beside 
him  at  the  rail,  gazing  down  upon  the  scene 
with  an  angry  scowL  At  this  moment 
they  came  abreast  of  the  end  of  the  pier, 
where  a  scene  of  waving  handkerchiefs 
and  tossing  sun-umbrellas  of  every  hue 
and  shade  burst  upon  them  like  a  mighty 
kaleidoscope,  and  at  the  same  instant  the 
belated  traveller  appeared  in  the  surging 
mass  of  people,  hatless  and  dishevelled 
and  clutching  wildly  at  the  air,  as  if  he 
would  stay  the  departing  ship.  "  Intoler- 
able ass ! "  muttered  the  bearded  man  in 
a  savage  whisper,  and  striking  the  rail 
furiously  with  his  clenched  fist,  he  strode 
angrily  away. 

The  sail  through  the  river  and  down 
the  bay  was  enough  of  a  novelty  to  keep 
Farnham  busily  observant,  and  it  was  not 
until  the  Hook  had  been  passed  and  the 
pilot  taken  off  that  he  bethought  himself 


CAPTAIN   BLACK  137 

of  going  below  to  don  his  steamer-cap 
and  shoes,  and  otherwise  prepare  himself 
for  a  week  of  seafaring  leisure.  He  had 
secured  a  berth  in  an  outside  room  in  the 
double  row  just  aft  the  saloon  companion- 
way,  and  as  he  entered  the  passage  lead- 
'  ing  to  it  he  met  his  bearded  acquaintance 
just  coining  out  of  the  room.  "  Mr.  Farn- 
ham  ?  "  said  the  dark  man,  interrogatively. 
"That  is  my  name,"  replied  Farnham. 
"I  am  Captain  Black,"  said  the  other, 
bowing  stiffly  ;  "  I  believe  we  are  booked 
as  room-mates,"  and,  pushing  by  him, 
walked  away  without  pausing  for  a  reply. 

"  I  hope  you'll  pan  out  better  than  you 
promise,  my  good  fellow,"  said  Farnham 
to  himself,  philosophically ;  and  entering 
his  room,  he  was  soon  busily  occupied  in 
making  a  convenient  disposal  of  his  mod- 
est belongings. 

The  door  stood  open,  and  Farnham 
presently  became  aware  of  the  presence, 
in  the  room  directly  opposite,  of  a  fel- 


138  STORIES   OF  THE   SEA 

low-passenger  similarly  occupied.  He 
seemed  to  be  of  about  the  height  and 
build  of  Farnham's  room-mate,  but  his 
face,  of  which  Farnham  caught  an  occa- 
sional glimpse  as  he  moved  about,  was  as 
unlike  that  gentleman's  as  could  well  be 
imagined.  He  was  clean  shaven,  of  a 
pallor  that  was  almost  unearthly,  and  had 
a  hideous  scar  extending  from  one  corner 
of  his  mouth  down  across  his  chin.  To 
all  this  was  added  a  certain  wildness  of 
eye  that  was  so  distinctly  repellent  that 
Farnham  inwardly  congratulated  himself 
that  Captain  Black  had  fallen  to  his  lot 
instead  of  this  unprepossessing  stranger ; 
and  completing  his  arrangements,  loaded 
himself  with  cigars  and  went  on  deck. 

Events  proved  that  if  Captain  Black 
was  not  companionable,  he  was  at  least 
unobtrusive.  Except  for  the  mere  knowl- 
edge to  the  contrary,  Farnham  had  the 
room  virtually  to  himself.  His  companion 
rose,  had  his  tub,  dressed,  and  went  on 


CAPTAIN    BLACK  139 

deck  long  before  the  overworked  coun- 
sellor-at-law  had  finished  his  supplement- 
al morning  doze,  and  retired  at  night  so 
late  and  so  quietly  that  Farnham  never  so 
much  as  knew  when  he  came  into  the 
room.  As  for  the  rest,  the  man  was 
singularly  preoccupied  in  manner,  ac- 
knowledging with  the  merest  nod  and 
with  an  absent  air  Farnham's  salutation 
when  they  chanced  to  meet,  and  keeping 
aloof  from  him  and,  with  one  exception, 
from  the  other  passengers  as  well,  with  a 
persistence  that  was  too  marked  to  per- 
mit any  attempt  at  a  closer  acquaintance. 
The  exception,  to  Farnham's  surprise, 
was  the  uninviting-looking  occupant  of 
the  opposite  room.  What  made  this  re- 
markable selection  still  more  surprising 
was  the  fact  that  the  acquaintance 
between  the  two  had  evidently  been 
made  aboard  ship,  as  Farnham  had  seen 
them  passing  and  repassing  each  other 
without  the  slightest  sign  of  recognition 


during  the  afternoon  of  the  day  of  sail- 
ing ;  yet  before  twenty-four  hours  had 
elapsed  an  intimacy  had  been  formed 
and  matured  between  these  strangely 
contrasted  men,  so  close  that  they 
seemed  to  be  inseparable.  Morning, 


CAPTAIN   BLACK  141 

noon,  and  far  into  the  night  they  sat 
and  smoked  together  in  secluded  corners, 
the  man  with  the  scar  constantly  talking 
in  a  smothered  undertone,  with  a  certain 
fierce  vehemence  and  violence  of  gesture, 
and  the  captain  listening  with  a  brooding 
look  upon  his  dark  features  and  an  observ- 
ant eye  upon  the  other's  face.  Farnham 
was  puzzled,  and,  for  a  while,  found  a  sin- 
gular fascination  in  furtively  watching  the 
two  men  and  mentally  speculating  as  to 
what  strange  community  of  interest  had 
brought  them  together.  The  few  pas- 
sengers with  whom  he  chanced  to  fall  in- 
to conversation  knew  as  little  about  the 
scar-faced  man  as  he  himself  knew  about 
Captain  Black,  and  beyond  the  fact  that 
his  name  was  Leath,  learned  incidentally 
from  the  cabin-steward,  no  information  of 
any  kind  was  obtainable.  Farnham 's  in- 
terest in  the  matter,  being  rather  antipa- 
thetic than  otherwise,  was  short-lived, 
and  in  the  course  of  a  day  or  two  sub- 


142  STORIES   OF   THE   SEA 


sided  into  a  mere  glance  at  the  two  men 
when  he  chanced  to  come  upon  them. 

The  weather  was  fair  and  promised  to 
hold  ;  but  shortly  after  passing  the  Banks 
the  ship  ran  into  a  rough  sea  rolling 
heavily  from  the  southward,  evidently 
the  tail  of  a  storm  that  had  passed  up 
from  the  tropics.  As  the  day  wore  on 
the  sea  continued  rising,  and  by  nightfall 
the  ship  was  rolling  heavily,  and  Farn- 
ham,  who  had  thus  far  fared  well,  began 
to  experience  certain  premonitions  that 
impelled  him,  after  a  proud  struggle 
against  fate,  to  forego  his  after-dinner 
cigar  and  turn  in  at  an  unseemly  hour,  in 
the  hope  that  a  night's  rest  would  set  him 
right  He  lay  in  his  berth,  occasionally 
falling  into  a  doze  and  then  being  roused 
by  an  unusually  violent  plunge  as  the 
ship  labored  in  the  heavy  sea,  getting 
up  from  time  to  time  to  secure  and  make 
fast  the  various  toilet  articles  that  had 
drifted  from  their  moorings,  and  then 


CAPTAIN   BLACK  143 

tumbling  into  his  berth  again  with  a 
qualmish  apprehension  that  the  supreme 
moment  he  was  fighting  against  was  upon 
him. 

It  was  just  after  one  of  these  excursions 
that  the  door  opened  and  Captain  Black 
came  into  the  room.  The  curtain  of  the 
berth  was  drawn  so  that  he  was  concealed 
from  view,  but  Farnham,  half  dozing,  was 
vaguely  aware,  above  the  creaking  of 
the  ship,  of  his  movements  about  the 
room  ;  and  an  occasional  rattle  of  keys 
and  the  snapping  of  a  lock  indicated  the 
opening  of  some  article  of  luggage.  These 
trifling  noises  not  being  disturbing  in  them- 
selves, Farnham  finally  dropped  asleep 
and  was  presently  involved  in  a  contested 
will  case  of  extraordinary  magnitude,  with 
his  most  important  witness  a  fugitive  in 
the  wilds  of  Madagascar.  The  details 
progressed  with  astonishing  velocity,  ac- 
companied by  distracting  complications 
heretofore  unheard  of  in  law  practice, 


144  STORIES   OF   THE   SEA 

and  matters  were  assuming  a  portentous 
aspect  with  tremendous  pecuniary  penal- 
ties impending,  when  he  awoke  and  start- 
ed up  with  a  sudden  consciousness  that 
the  curtain  had  been  drawn  aside  and  that 
he  had  been  looked  upon  as  he  lay  sleep- 
ing in  his  berth.  He  pushed  it  back  and 
looked  out,  and  as  he  did  so  the  door  of 
the  room  was  softly  closed  and  he  heard 
the  heavy  footsteps  of  Captain  Black  go- 
ing out  through  the  passageway.  The  in- 
cident was  sufficiently  annoying  in  itself, 
but  Farnham  found  it  doubly  so  from  the 
manifest  impossibility  of  resenting  it  at 
the  moment,  and  after  fuming  over  it  to 
no  purpose  he  lay  down  again,  resolving 
to  give  his  room-mate  a  bit  of  his  mind  in 
the  morning  ;  and  bracing  himself  with 
his  knees  against  the  rolling  of  the  ship, 
tried  to  compose  himself  to  sleep.  But 
sleep  would  not  come.  The  sudden 
awakening  and  the  resulting  irritation 
had  excited  him,  and  he  rolled  and 


CAPTAIN   BLACK  145 

tossed  about,  dropping  off  into  fitful 
naps  and  waking  with  every  violent 
plunge  of  the  ship,  and  occasionally 
muttering  unseemly  imprecations  against 
the  evil  chance  that  had  broken  in  upon 
his  night's  rest. 

It  was  just  after  one  of  these  wakings 
that  he  heard  the  sound  of  a  hurried  step 
descending  the  companionway,  and  some 
one  came  aft  through  the  open  cabin  and 
turned  into  the  passageway  almost  on  a 
run  ;  the  door  of  the  opposite  room  was 
opened,  closed  again  and  locked,  appar- 
ently with  feverish  haste,  and  all  was  still 
again.  Farnham,  listening  with  alert  at- 
tention, heard  six  bells  strike  a  moment 
after,  and  concluding  from  the  hour  that 
Captain  Black  would  soon  follow  his 
friend,  prepared  to  speak  his  mind  then 
and  there ;  nursing  which  amiable  inten- 
tion he  presently  fell  sound  asleep. 

"Beg  pardon,   sir,"  said  a  voice,  and 


146  STORIES   OF   THE   SEA 

Farnham  started  up.  It  was  morning, 
and  the  bath-steward  was  standing  in 
the  doorway.  "  Beg  pardon,  sir,"  said 
the  man  again,  with  a  startled  look  upon 
his  face;  "but  Captain  Black  isn't  here, 
sir,  and  his  berth  hasn't  been  used." 

"  Well,  I'm  not  responsible  for  his  not 
coming  to  bed,"  said  Farnham,  testily. 
"What  time  is  it  ?  " 

"Just  gone  seven  bells,  sir,"  said  the 
steward. 

"Very  good,  I'll  get  up,"  said  Farn- 
ham, after  a  moment's  deliberation. 
"See  if  you  can  get  me  a  bath,"  and 
the  man  withdrew. 

Farnham,  reflecting  upon  the  steward's 
rather  startling  announcement,  found  his 
irritation  giving  way  to  a  vague  forebod- 
ing of  evil,  with  which  came  a  disturbing 
recollection  of  Leath's  hurried  return  to 
his  room  the  night  before.  Could  the 
man  tell  anything?  He  looked  out  into 
the  passageway,  but  the  door  of  the  oppo- 


CAPTAIN   BLACK 


147 


site  room  was  closed  and  Farnham  could 
not  bring  himself  to  knock  and  learn — he 
knew  not  what ; 
and  he  dressed 
with  feverish  haste, 
and  went  on  deck 
with  an  increasing 
sense  of  an  agita- 
tion which  he  could 
not  shake  off.  He 
made  a  complete 
tour  of  the  ship,  ex- 
amined every  part 
of  the  decks,  look- 
ed into  the  smok- 
ing-room,  and 
finally  went  into 
the  dining-saloon, 
where  a  vacant 
chair  marked  Cap- 
tain Black's  place  at  the  breakfast-table  ; 
and  then,  coming  across  his  cabin-steward, 
questioned  him,  and  learned  that  the  man 


148  STORIES   OF  THE  SEA 

had  been  off  watch  the  night  before  and 
could  tell  him  nothing.  The  matter  be- 
gan to  assume  an  ugly  look,  and  Farn- 
ham  went  direct  to  the  purser,  and  in  ten 
minutes  the  ship  was  being  thoroughly 
searched  from  stem  to  stern.  Not  a  trace 
of  the  missing  man  could  be  found  ;  Cap- 
tain Black  had  vanished  as  absolutely  as  if 
he  had  been  absorbed  into  the  atmosphere. 
When  Farnham  related  the  events  of 
the  preceding  night  it  was  determined  to 
question  Leath  at  once  ;  and  on  the  stew- 
ard's report  that  the  man  was  ill  and  was 
still  in  his  berth,  Farnham  and  the  purser 
went  to  his  room  and  knocked  for  admit- 
tance. Leath  unlocked  the  door  without 
parley  and  was  back  again  in  his  berth  as 
they  entered  the  room,  leaning  on  one 
elbow  and  glaring  angrily  at  them  as  he 
demanded  their  business.  The  man  was 
evidently  ill  and  looked  horrible.  His 
face,  apparently  tanned  by  the  sea  air, 
had  taken  on  a  swarthy  hue  that  made 


CAPTAIN   BLACK  149 


his  extraordinary  pallor  even  more  ghastly 
than  before,  and  the  scar  on  his  chin 
blazed  with  an  angry  flush  as  though  he 
had  been  freshly  branded  on  the  face. 

He  listened  to  the  purser's  statement, 
manifesting  extreme  agitation  as  the  story 
proceeded,  and  at  its  conclusion  fell  back 
upon  his  pillow  and  covered  his  face  with 
his  hands.  "  I  can  tell  you  nothing,"  he 
said,  after  a  brief  silence,  speaking  in  a 
smothered  voice  that  was  singularly  dis- 
cordant. "  I  left  him,  smoking  and  lean- 
ing on  the  rail  near  the  turtle-back,  and 
came  below  at  eleven  o'clock.  You  must 
have  heard  me,"  he  added,  appealing  to 
Farnham,  who  nodded  assent.  "What 
followed  is  as  dark  to  me  as  it  is  to  you. 
I  had  been  drinking  and  my  recollection 
is  confused  ;  I  only  remember  that  the  sea 
was  horrible  to  look  at ! "  and  with  a 
shudder  he  turned  his  face  to  the  wall, 
and  Farnham  and  the  purser,  exchanging 
a  significant  glance,  left  him. 


ISO  STORIES  OF  THE  SEA 

"We  must  go  to  the  old  man  with 
this,"  said  the  purser,  with  an  ominous 
shake  of  the  head,  and  requesting  Farn- 
ham  to  follow  him,  led  the  way  to  the 
captain's  room.  The  news  had  already 
spread  about  the  ship,  and  as  they  passed 
along  the  deck,  little  groups  of  passengers 
were  discussing  the  tragedy  with  repressed 
voices,  and  Farnham  observed,  with  great 
annoyance,  that  they  glanced  curiously 
at  him  as  he  went  by,  and  felt  that  he  was 
being  connected  with  the  affair  in  a  thor- 
oughly unpleasant  manner. 

The  captain  heard  the  grim  story 
through  and  reflected  for  a  few  moments 
with  a  disturbed  countenance.  "  There's 
nothing  to  be  done,"  he  said  at  length  ; 
"when  we  get  in  I  shall  ask  this  gentle- 
man and  the  other  to  remain  aboard  until 
we  can  communicate  with  the  authorities. 
If  Leath  refuses,"  he  continued,  fixing  on 
the  unfortunate  man  with  the  same  suspi- 
cion that  possessed  both  Farnham  and 


CAPTAIN   BLACK  151 

the  purser,  "  I  shall  take  the  responsibility 
of  detaining  him.  Meanwhile,  take  charge 
of  the  missing  man's  effects  and  tell  the 
men  not  to  talk." 

And  now  that  the  dark  premonition  had 
grown  into  a  gruesome  fact,  Farnham  be- 
gan to  experience  a  depression  of  spirits 
that  promised  to  put  an  end  to  his  enjoy- 
ment of  the  remainder  of  the  voyage.  As 
the  day  wore  on,  the  gloom  fastened  upon 
him  like  a  pall,  until  he  was  impelled, 
just  before  nightfall,  to  go  to  the  purser 
and  ask  to  be  given  another  room,  where 
he  could  be  free  from  the  disquieting  as- 
sociations of  his  late  quarters,  and  away 
from  the  immediate  proximity  of  Leath, 
for  whom  he  had  conceived  an  uncon- 
querable aversion.  The  purser  fell  in 
with  his  humor  without  demur,  and  Farn- 
ham found  himself  transferred  to  a  stuffy 
inside  cabin  on  the  main  deck  with  a  posi- 
tive sense  of  benefaction.  His  former 
apartment  was  abandoned  to  the  goods 


152  STORIES   OF   THE   SEA 

and  chattels  of  Captain  Black,  and  Leath, 
locked  in  his  room,  was  left  alone  with  his 
secret,  if  he  had  one. 

It  was  with  a  sense  of  infinite  relief  that 
Farnham,  coming  on  deck  one  morning, 
saw  the  Skelligs  rising  like  mammoth 
teeth  from  the  sea,  and  soon  afterward 
the  green  cliffs  of  the  Irish  mainland.  His 
spirits  rose  as  the  steamer  ran  along  the 
coast,  passed  inside  the  Fastnet  Rock, 
and  finally  turned  into  the  mouth  of 
Queenstown  Harbor ;  and  he  watched 
with  lively  interest  the  arrival  alongside 
of  the  rakish  little  tender  and  the  transfer 
of  an  interminable  number  of  mail-bags 
to  her  ample  deck.  The  procession  of 
bag-bearing  stewards  having  finished  their 
labors,  he  crossed  to  the  opposite  side  of 
the  ship,  and  was  engaged  in  serene  con- 
templation of  the  whitewashed  glories  of 
the  Roche's  Point  light,  when  he  was 
touched  on  the  shoulder,  and  turning,  saw 
the  purser  at  his  side  with  two  strangers. 


CAPTAIN   BLACK  153 

"  We  are  beginning  to  get  a  little  light 
on  our  affair,  Mr.  Farnham,"  said  the  pur- 
ser. "  These  gentlemen  are  officers  from 
Scotland  Yard  with  a  requisition  and  a 
warrant  for  the  arrest  of  Captain  Black 
on  a  charge  of  forgery.  Mr.  Lethbridge 
and  Mr.  Darke — Mr.  Farnham,"  and  the 
two  detectives  touched  their  hats  and  re- 
garded Farnham  with  a  professional  air, 
as  if  longing  to  take  him  into  custody  in 
the  absence  of  their  legitimate  prey. 

"No  statement  to  make,  I  suppose," 
said  Mr.  Lethbridge,  a  sharp-featured, 
fresh-faced  man  with  light  hair. 

"None,"  said  Farnham.  "Mr.  Neal 
knows  all  I  can  tell  you." 

"Very  good,  sir,"  said  Lethbridge,  af- 
fably. "  Now,  then,  Mr.  Neal,"  he  added, 
turning  to  the  purser,  "  if  you'll  be  good 
enough  to  show  us  below,  we'll  take  a  look 
at  the  effects  ;  "  and  touching  their  hats 
again,  the  two  officers  followed  the  purser, 
leaving  Farnham  to  resume  his  inter- 


154  STORIES   OF  THE  SEA 

rupted  observation  of  the  lighthouse. 
Meanwhile,  with  a  prodigious  ringing  of 
bells,  the  tender  cast  off  and  paddled  up 
the  harbor,  the  great  pulse  began  to  throb 
again,  and  the  steamer,  turning  her  prow 
seaward,  went  on  her  way  up  the  Chan- 
nel. 

Farnham,  slowly  pacing  the  deck,  pres- 
ently saw  the  purser  and  Lethbridge 
emerge  from  the  companionway  and  come 
toward  him.  "  Mr.  Farnham,"  said  the 
former,  "  I'm  afraid  you  and  I,  without 
saying  much  about  the  matter,  have  been 
doing  that  poor  devil  Leath  a  great  injus- 
tice. Read  this,"  and  he  handed  Farnham 
an  unsealed  envelope.  It  was  addressed 
"  To  whom  it  may  concern,"  and  opening 
it,  Farnham  found  enclosed  the  following 
letter : 

In  the  almost  absolute  certainty  of  be- 
ing apprehended  upon  my  arrival,  I  have 
chosen  the  only  means  open  to  me  of 
avoiding  the  disgrace  and  punishment 


CAPTAIN   BLACK  155 

that  would  inevitably  follow.  I  had  hoped 
to  escape,  with  the  firm  intention  of  never 
resting  until  I  had  made  restitution  for  the 
only  crime  that  has  ever  stained  my  life  ; 
but  it  was  not  to  be.  The  appearance,  at 
the  moment  of  departure,  of  a  man  upon 
whose  blind  confidence  and  dull  appre- 
hension I  had  relied,  for  such  a  tardy  dis- 
covery of  my  betrayal  of  trust  as  would 
give  me  ample  time  for  escape,  has  told 
me  that  the  cable  would  assuredly  carry 
the  intelligence  abroad  long  before  I  could 
reach  English  soil. 

I  had  at  first  no  intention  of  leaving  New 
York.  I  expected,  with  incredible  fatuity, 
to  delay  exposure  until  some  lucky  chance 
should  permit  me  to  cover,  for  all  time,  the 
traces  of  my  wrong-doing  ;  but  the  mental 
strain  consequent  upon  continued  and 
complicated  falsifying  of  accounts,  be- 
came unendurable,  and  in  an  evil  mo- 
ment I  appropriated  certain  funds  from 
a  quarter  where  immediate  examination 
and  discovery  were  improbable,  and  ven- 
tured all  upon  that  mirage  of  default- 
ers— faro.  I  lost.  There  was  no  time  for 
resort  to  the  expedients  of  disguise  and 


156  STORIES  OF   THE  SEA 

concealed  identity  which  might  have  saved 
me.  I  attempted  to  deceive  my  associate 
by  the  desperate  subterfuge  of  a  forged 
cable  message  calling  me  abroad  on  fam- 
ily affairs ;  made  up  my  luggage  and 
boarded  the  steamer  almost  at  the  hour  of 
sailing,  only  to  find  myself  unmasked  at 
the  last  moment. 

I  feel  no  longing  for  the  life  I  am  about 
to  end,  nor  do  I  leave  a  single  soul  who 
will  mourn  my  death.  I  regret,  alone, 
that  restitution  is  beyond  my  power.  The 
sea  is  merciful  to  me  in  all  else. 

LANSING  BLACK. 

"  Poor  fellow !  "  said  Farnham.  "  How 
bad  a  matter  was  it  ?  " 

"  Extensive  forgeries  and  about  sixteen 
thousand  pounds  in  hard  cash,  supposed 
to  be  with  him,"  replied  Lethbridge. 
"  That's  all  we  know.  Particulars  by 
mail." 

"I  am  glad  Leath  is  out  of  it,  at  all 
events,"  said  Farnham,  heartily  enough. 

"  So  am  I,  sir,"  echoed  the  purser ;  "but 


CAPTAIN   BLACK  157 

Tm  blessed  if  it  didn't  look  ugly  for  a 
while."  With  which  reminiscence  he  and 
Mr.  Lethbridge  went  below  again  to  re- 
sume their  examination  of  Captain  Black's 
effects. 

Leath  kept  his  room  with  extraordinary 
persistence  until  the  last  moment.  Farn- 
ham,  with  a  vague  idea  of  making  amends 
for  his  recent  suspicions  by  some  sort  of 
friendly  advances,  looked  for  him  on  the 
tender  the  next  morning,  but  failed  to  find 
him  in  the  crowd  of  passengers ;  nor  did 
he  get  a  sight  of  him  until  the  very  last 
of  the  number  were  disembarking,  when 
Leath,  wearing  a  mackintosh  reaching  to 
his  heels,  and  with  a  muffler  or  scarf 
swathed  about  the  lower  part  of  his  face, 
suddenly  appeared  at  the  head  of  the  gang- 
way leading  to  the  landing-stage,  and 
paused  irresolutely,  as  if  loath  to  come 
ashore.  Farnham,  who  was  awaiting  his 
luggage  on  the  landing-stage  and  chatting 
meanwhile  with  the  two  detectives,  was 


158  STORIES   OF  THE   SEA 

about  to  attract  his  attention  by  a  sign  of 
recognition,  when  Leath,  as  if  suddenly 
mastering  his  indecision,  strode  rapidly 
down  the  gangway,  and  began  roughly 
pushing  his  way  through  the  throng  of 
waiting  passengers.  At  this  moment  Leth- 
bridge  touched  Farnham  on  the  arm  and 
pointed  significantly  to  a  woman  who  was 
standing  at  the  foot  of  the  gangway  with 
her  eyes  intently  fixed  upon  Leath.  She 
was  a  sad-faced  woman,  plainly  clad,  and 
Farnham  noticed  that  she  was  holding  her 
hand  tremulously  to  her  mouth,  as  if  en- 
deavoring to  control  excessive  agitation. 
As  Leath  passed  her  without  a  glance  of 
recognition,  her  eyes  dilated  as  with  a 
sudden  sickening  terror,  and  then,  appar- 
ently moved  by  an  uncontrollable  impulse, 
she  flung  herself  before  him  with  her 
hands  against  his  breast,  crying,  "  Roger! 
Don't  you  know  me  ?  "  Leath's  face,  for 
an  instant,  looked  as  if  it  had  been  turned 
to  stone,  then,  catching  sight  of  Farnham's 


160  STORIES   OF  THE  SEA 

astonished  gaze,  he  instantly  passed  his 
arm  about  the  imploring  figure  before  him 
and  said  hurriedly,  "I  did  not  see  you. 
Come  away,"  and  pushed  on  with  the 
woman,  sobbing  convulsively,  on  his 
arm. 

"  Rather  a  rum  meeting,  that,"  observed 
Mr.  Lethbridge,  dryly,  and  Farnham,  who 
had  witnessed  the  scene  with  an  imme- 
diate revival  of  his  former  antipathy, 
shrugged  his  shoulders  in  infinite  disgust, 
and  washing  his  hands  of  Mr.  Leath  and 
his  affairs,  went  off  to  look  after  his  own 
effects. 

No  further  incidents  of  importance 
marked  Farnham's  sojourn  abroad.  He 
traversed  the  beaten  road  of  insular  and 
continental  sightseeing  for  his  allotted 
time,  and  returned  to  his  legal  grindstone 
with  such  agreeable  recollections  of  his 
vacation,  that  the  following  June  found 
him  again  in  London  with  the  pleasant 
prospect  of  further  rambles  before  him 


CAPTAIN   BLACK  l6l 

during  the  summer  months.  He  had 
heard  the  particulars  of  the  forgery  while 
at  home,  but  it  was  simply  the  old  story 
of  securities  raised  from  their  face  value, 
followed  by  the  coarser  crime  of  actual 
theft,  and  ending  with  a  ruined  firm  and  a 
beggared  partner  ;  and  the  affair  had  al- 
most passed  from  his  memory,  when  it 
was  suddenly  recalled  by  an  incident  of 
the  most  startling  character. 

Farnham,  waiting  for  a  friend,  was 
standing  at  the  window  of  that  depress- 
ing apartment,  the  smoking-room  of 
Her  Majesty's  Hotel,  gazing  aimlessly 
into  the  side  street  and  observing  the 
grimy  wall  of  a  noble  lord's  grounds  on 
the  opposite  side  of  the  way,  when  his 
attention  was  attracted  to  two  men  who 
came  from  the  direction  of  the  neigh- 
boring thoroughfare,  and  stopped,  con- 
versing leisurely,  at  the  entrance  to  the 
hotel.  With  the  man  who  faced  him 
Farnham  had  no  concern ;  but  he  was 


162  STORIES   OF   THE   SEA 

instantly  and  strangely  interested  in  the 
other,  who  stood  with  his  back  toward 
him.  The  subtile  individuality  which  oc- 
casionally asserts  itself  in  the  human 
back  told  him  that  he  knew  this  man, 
and  the  consciousness  -sent  an  unac- 
countable thrill  through  his  veins.  A 
moment  after,  the  other  of  the  two 
walked  away  and  the  owner  of  the  ex- 
pressive back  turned  to  enter  the  hotel. 
As  Farnham  caught  sight  of  his  face  his 
first  impression  was  that  he  had  been 
mistaken  ;  then  there  arose  in  his  mem- 
ory, like  a  flash  of  light,  a  vision  of  the 
deck  of  the  Servia  a  year  ago  and  the 
two  consorting  men  who  had  so  unpleas- 
antly impressed  him,  and  he  recoiled  as 
though  he  had  been  shot.  The  full  brown 
beard  had  disappeared,  and  a  carefully 
waxed  gray  mustache  and  pointed  goatee 
had  replaced  it;  but  if  Captain  Black 
ever  walked  upon  the  earth  he  stood  in 
the  flesh  before  Farnham  at  that  mo- 


CAPTAIN   BLACK  163 

ment.  As  this  astounding  fact  divulged 
itself  the  man  disappeared  through  the 
doorway,  and  Farnham  sank  breathless 
into  a  chair. 

The  apparition,  for  it  seemed  little 
more  to  Farnham's  excited  fancy,  came 
directly  into  the  smoking-room,  glanced 
casually  at  him  as  he  sat  quaking  in  his 
chair,  and  went  out  without  a  sign  of 
recognition.  Farnham  breathed  again. 
He  had  grown  stouter  and  wore  a  beard, 
and  it  afforded  him  unspeakable  relief 
to  feel  that  these  changes  in  his  out- 
ward man  had  effectually  concealed  his 
identity.  He  sat  still,  watching  through 
the  open  doorway  the  man  who  had 
apparently  risen  from  the  sea,  and  saw 
him  stop  for  a  moment  at  the  office  win- 
dow and  then  pass  through  the  hall  and 
up  the  stairs.  He  was  evidently  staying 
at  the  hotel,  and  Farnham,  presently  re- 
covering his  composure,  sauntered  out 
of  the  room  with  as  much  unconcern  as 


164  STORIES  OF  THE  SEA 

he  could  assume  and  inquired  of  the 
hall-porter  who  the  gentleman  was  who 
had  just  come  in. 

"  His  name  is  Pelham,  sir,"  said  the 
man;  "Mr.  Francis  Pelham,  I  think. 
He's  not  stopped  here  before,  sir." 

"Thank  you,"  said  Farnham.  "  Be 
good  enough  not  to  mention  that  I  in- 
quired ;  he  might  consider  it  an  imperti- 
nence ; "  and  impressing  this  injunction 
upon  the  porter  by  a  judicious  bestowal 
of  a  shilling,  he  went  out  and,  oblivious 
of  his  appointment,  hailed  a  hansom  and 
was  driven  to  Scotland  Yard  as  fast  as 
an  indifferent  horse  could  take  him. 

Lethbridge  was  absent,  but  upon  Farn- 
ham's  assurance  that  his  business  was 
urgent,  he  was  sent  for  and  presently 
came  in,  and  Farnham  was  again  re- 
assured by  finding  that  even  the  detect- 
ive's keen  eye  failed  to  recognize  him  in 
his  altered  personality.  A  reference  to 
the  events  of  the  preceding  summer, 


CAPTAIN   BLACK  165 

however,  immediately  recalled  him  to 
Lethbridge's  memory,  and  he  told,  as 
concisely  as  possible,  the  extraordinary 
discovery  which  he  believed  he  had 
made.  Lethbridge  heard  him  through 
and  then  shook  his  head  incredulously. 
"I've  come  across  strange  things  in  my 
line,  Mr.  Farnham,"  he  said,  "but  this 
is  the  toughest  yarn  I've  ever  heard  yet. 
It  can't  be,  sir,  it  can't  be.  Darke  and 
I  prodded  every  corner  of  the  ship,  and 
I  tell  you  the  man  wasn't  there." 

"And  I  tell  you  that  the  man  is  in 
London  at  this  moment,"  said  Farnham, 
vehemently.  "Apply  any  test  that  you 
please,  and  you'll  find  I'm  right." 

Lethbridge  pondered  dubiously  for  a 
moment,  and  then  asked  Farnham  to  re- 
peat to  him,  in  their  consecutive  order, 
all  the  details  of  Captain  Black's  disap- 
pearance from  the  steamer.  This  Farn- 
ham did  with  scrupulous  exactness, 
Lethbridge  listening  attentively  and 


l66  STORIES   OF   THB  SKA 

checking  off  the  narrative  from  time  to 
time  with  affirmative  nods  of  his  head. 

"  Now,"  said  Lethbridge,  "  go  over  the 
business  on  the  landing-stage  in  the  same 
way,  so  I  may  be  sure  I've  got  the  thing 
straight  in  my  head." 

Farnham  complied  as  before,  and  was 
carefully  reciting  the  sequence  of  events, 
when  he  became  suddenly  aware  of  a 
change  in  the  detective's  manner.  Leth- 
bridge was  leaning  forward  in  his  chair 
in  an  attitude  of  the  most  alert  atten- 
tion, and  with  a  strange  gleam  in  his 
eyes  that  betokened  extraordinary  emo- 
tion ;  and  as  the  story  ended,  he  brought 
his  hand  down  upon  his  knee  with  a 
resounding  slap  and  exclaimed  exulting- 
ly,  "  By  George,  I  have  it!  " 

"  Now  look  here,  sir,"  he  continued, 
before  Farnham  could  speak ;  ' '  you  can 
help  us  if  you  will.  If  this  is  the  right 
man,  he  is  an  extraordinary  cool  hand, 
and  we  mustn't  touch  him  until  we  are 


CAPTAIN   BLACK  167 

ready  for  him.  That  won't  be  until  day 
after  to-morrow,  as  I  must  send  a  man 
out  of  town  to  bring  up  another  party 
that  we  shall  need." 

"But  suppose — "  said  Farnham,  who 
would  have  preferred  immediate  action  ; 
"suppose,  meanwhile,  our  man  takes  it 
into  his  head  to  leave." 

"  Then  I'll  stop  him  at  a  venture,"  said 
Lethbridge,  with  a  grim  smile,  "but  I 
don't  want  to  move  a  minute  too  soon 
if  I  can  help  it.  Now,  I  want  you  to 
take  a  table  near  him  in  the  coffee-room 
— say  to-morrow  at  breakfast." 

"But  I'm  not  staying  there,"  objected 
Farnham. 

"Take  a  room  there  over-night,"  said 
Lethbridge,  promptly,  "  and  give  'em  a 
wrong  name." 

"  I  don  t  fancy  doing  that,"  said  Farn- 
ham, after  a  moment's  reflection. 

"  There  isn't  a  bit  of  'arm  in  it,"  said 
Lethbridge,  "and  it  will  help  us  a  lot." 


168  STORIES   OF   THE   SEA 

"And  what  then?"  said  Farnham. 

"  Why,  then,"  continued  Lethbridge, 
with  a  reassuring  smile,  "when  you're 
ready  to  go  in  to  breakfast,  just  step 
out  of  the  'otel  door  for  a  moment  so  I 
can  see  you,  and  then  leave  word  if  any 
one  asks  for  you,  to  have  him  shown  in 
direct  to  your  table.  That'll  give  me  a 
chance  for  complete  observation  of  your 
party  without  attracting  any  attention 
whatsoever,  and  without  anybody  being 
any  the  wiser  but  me.  After  that  you 
can  go  off  and  leave  the  business  in  my 
hands  until  everything's  ready.  I  sup- 
pose you'd  like  to  see  the  end  of  it,  sir?" 
concluded  the  detective,  with  a  confident 
interrogation. 

"Well — yes;  after  having  gone  so  far 
—I  would,"  said  Farnham. 

"  Very  good,  sir,  I'll  look  you  up," 
said  Mr.  Lethbridge,  cheerfully.  "Mind 
you  sit  with  your  back  to  him." 

Farnham  went  away  with   a   disquiet- 


CAPTAIN   BLACK  169 

ing  sense  of  having  been  cleverly  im- 
pressed into  the  English  detective  ser- 
vice ;  but  an  irrepressible  desire  to  follow 
up  the  unravelling  of  the  mystery  that 
lay  before  him  enabled  him  to  stifle  cer- 
tain stirrings  of  conscience  by  the  self- 
assurance  that  he  was  merely  furthering 
the  ends  of  justice.  He  wandered  aim- 
lessly about,  avoiding  the  vicinity  of  the 
hotel  until  bedtime,  when  he  sneaked  in, 
carrying  a  satchel,  and  with  a  humiliat- 
ing consciousness  of  imposture  lying 
heavily  on  his  mind,  and  was  allotted  a 
gloomy  back  room  at  the  top  of  the 
house.  Here  he  passed  a  horrible  night, 
largely  occupied  in  running  down  pre- 
posterous criminals  of  all  grades,  and 
awoke  with  a  pardonable  feeling  of  re- 
pugnance for  his  self-invited  breakfast 
company. 

Pelham  was  already  seated  in  the 
coffee-room  when  he  went  down-stairs, 
and  having  bespoken  the  adjoining  table, 


170  STORIES   OF  THE   SKA 

he  went  to  the  entrance  door  of  the 
hotel  as  agreed  and  looked  up  and  down 
the  street.  Not  a  sign  of  Lethbridge 
could  be  seen,  and  Farnham,  with  a 
cheering  hope  that  the  appointment  had 
miscarried,  went  in  to  breakfast  and 
seated  himself  with  his  back  to  his  un- 
suspecting neighbor.  He  had  ordered  his 
customary  eggs  and  bacon  and  break- 
fast tea,  and  was  looking  through  the 
morning  paper,  when  a  dark-complex- 
ioned man  with  a  profusion  of  black 
hair,  and  wearing  spectacles,  was  shown 
in  to  his  table,  and,  before  Farnham  could 
utter  a  protest,  seated  himself,  and  tak- 
ing from  his  pocket  a  bundle  of  docu- 
ments, began,  "I  have  looked  into  the 
matter  of  the  mining  prospectus,  and  I 
have  all  the  figures  here  as  you  request- 
ed." With  this  there  came  a  warning 
pressure  of  his  foot  beneath  the  table, 
and  Farnham  knew  that  Lethbridge  sat 
before  him. 


CAPTAIN   BLACK  IJI 

Farnham  was  already  sufficiently  out 
of  humor  to  be  excessively  annoyed  by 
what  he  considered  a  useless  and  ridicu- 
lous masquerade,  and  ate  his  breakfast 
in  sullen  silence,  while  Lethbridge  rat- 
tled on  with  amazing  volubility,  giving 
the  most  astounding  statistics  about  the 
mining  property,  and  keeping  mean- 
while a  stealthy  watch  upon  the  sus- 
pected man  at  the  adjoining  table,  until 
having  presumably  familiarized  himself 
to  the  proper  standard,  he  gathered  up 
his  papers  and  took  his  departure,  to 
Farnham's  infinite  relief.  That  thorough- 
ly disgusted  gentleman  dawdled  over  his 
breakfast  until  he  heard  Pelham  leave 
the  room,  and  seeing  him  presently  pass 
the  coffee-room  window,  took  his  own 
departure,  satchel  in  hand,  mentally  vow- 
ing never  to  be  caught  again  in  a  simi- 
lar mess. 

The  next  morning,  just  as  he  had 
finished  breakfasting  at  his  own  lodg- 


172  STORIES   OF   THE   SEA 

ings,  Lethbridge,  fresh-faced  and  fair- 
haired  again,  made  his  appearance  in 
such  confident  humor  that  Farnham's 
spirits  revived  somewhat  under  the  buoy- 
ancy of  the  detective's  manner,  and  he 
inquired  what  was  the  next  step  to  be 
taken. 

"  I'm  going  to  bait  a  hook,"  said  Leth- 
bridge, with  an  expression  of  infinite  rel- 
ish, "and  if  your  man  doesn't  rise  to  it 
you  can  call  me  a  Dutchman.  It  may 
be  a  long  fish,  but  if  we  catch  anything 
it  will  be  as  good  a  day's  work  as  ever 
I  did  in  my  life." 

The  baiting  of  the  hook,  which  Farn- 
ham  awaited  with  considerable  curiosity, 
proved  to  be  a  simple  matter  enough. 
Lethbridge  merely  wrote  the  words  "  Cap- 
tain Lansing  Black  "  in  a  large  bold  hand 
on  a  sheet  of  note-paper,  enclosed  it  in 
an  envelope  addressed  "  Francis  Pel- 
ham,  Esq.,"  and  with  an  air  of  extreme 
confidence  invited  Farnham  to  accom- 


CAPTAIN   BLACK  173 

pany  him   to   the  hotel  and  witness   the 
landing  of  the  fish. 

They  strolled  back  and  forth  upon  the 
Piccadilly  pavement  in  a  line  of  observ- 
ance of  the  hotel  entrance,  until  Mr. 
Pelham,  gloved  and  well  apparelled,  was 
seen  to  go  out.  Then  Farnham,  acting 
under  Lethbridge's  instructions,  walked 
into  the  hallway,  and  explaining  that  he 
was  awaiting  a  friend,  seated  himself  at 
one  side  of  the  entrance  door  and  be- 
came absorbed  in  perusal  of  a  morning 
paper.  Presently  Lethbridge  strolled  in 
and,  after  a  brief  interview  with  the 
manager  in  that  gentleman's  private  of- 
fice, placed  the  envelope  in  Pelham's 
letter-box  in  the  hall,  and  seating  him- 
self on  the  opposite  side  of  the  entrance 
door,  became  a  silent  rival  of  Farnham 
in  the  matter  of  looking  up  the  day's 
news.  The  hall-porter,  a  pompous  fel- 
low with  a  double  chin  and  wearing  a 
black  skull-cap,  seated  himself  in  his 


174  STORIES   OF   THE  SEA 

leather-covered  bath-chair,  all  uncon- 
scious of  the  drama  that  was  developing 
under  his  very  nose,  and  dropped  off 
into  a  nap — and  the  watch  began. 

It  was  a  long  one,  as  Lethbridge  had 
surmised,  and  the  hours  wore  slowly  on. 
Farnham  having  digested  the  exhaust- 
ive details  of  events  in  Her  Britannic 
Majesty's  realm,  and  the  scant  references 
to  other  portions  of  the  globe  peculiar 
to  the  British  press,  was  endeavoring  to 
concentrate  his  attention  upon  the  ad- 
vertisements and  occasionally  relapsing 
into  a  doze,  when  Lethbridge  coughed, 
and  at  the  same  moment  Pelham  opened 
the  door  and  walked  into  the  hall.  Farn- 
ham, with  his  heart  thumping  like  a  trip- 
hammer against  his  ribs,  glanced  at  his 
companion ;  but  that  imperturbable  indi- 
vidual was  so  absorbed  in  the  news  that 
Farnham,  for  a  moment,  feared  that  he 
had  not  noticed  that  their  man  had 
arrived.  The  next  instant,  however, 


CAPTAIN   BLACK  175 

Lethbridge's  eyes  appeared,  gleaming 
like  coals  of  fire  over  the  top  of  his 
newspaper,  and  Farnham,  following  their 
gaze,  saw  that  the  supreme  moment  had 
come.  Pelham  was  at  the  letter-box. 

A  lump  suddenly  rose  into  Farnham 's 
throat,  and  he  was  conscious  that  he  was 
trembling  violently  from  head  to  foot  as 
Pelham  took  the  envelope  from  the  box, 
glanced  carelessly  at  the  address  upon 
it,  and  then  opened  it.  As  his  eyes  met 
the  name  on  the  enclosed  sheet  he  re- 
coiled, glanced  like  lightning  about  the 
hall,  and  then,  crumpling  up  paper  and 
envelope,  he  thrust  them  into  his  pocket 
and  was  in  the  street  again  almost  be- 
fore Farnham  could  realize  what  had 
happened.  Lethbridge,  alert  and  as  agile 
as  a  cat,  was  after  him  and  at  his  side 
before  he  had  taken  a  dozen  steps,  and 
Farnham,  looking  through  the  window, 
saw  that  there  was  a  brief  colloquy,  fol- 
lowed by  a  shrug  of  Pelham's  shoulders, 


176  STORIES   OF   THE  SEA 

and  then  the  two  men  entered  a  cab  and 
were  driven  away.  "Now  for  it!"  said 
Farnham  to  himself,  and,  calling  a  cab  in 
his  turn,  he  followed  at  all  speed,  in  a 
curious  whirl  of  speculations  as  to  how 
the  matter  would  end. 

He  was  evidently  expected  at  Scot- 
land Yard,  and  on  giving  his  name  was 
shown  without  inquiry  into  a  well-lighted 
room,  where  Lethbridge  and  a  military- 
looking  official,  who  proved  to  be  the 
inspector,  were  conversing  in  a  low  tone 
in  a  corner.  Pelham,  who  had  appar- 
ently quite  recovered  his  composure,  was 
looking  out  of  the  window  with  his  back 
toward  them,  standing  with  his  legs  well 
apart,  and  swinging  his  walking-stick 
with  an  air  of  supreme  unconcern.  He 
glanced  indifferently  at  Farnham  as  he 
entered  the  room,  and  then,  apparently 
relegating  him  to  the  obscurity  of  the 
official  staff,  resumed  his  former  attitude 
at  the  window  and  gazed  steadily  into 


CAPTAIN   BLACK  177 

the  court-yard  until  the  inspector  said, 
"Now  then,  Mr.  Pelham,  if  you  please," 
when  he  turned,  showing  a  face  deadly 
pale,  but  with  features  evidently  under 
full  command. 

"  Mr.  Pelham,"  continued  the  inspec- 
tor, with  extreme  urbanity,  "it  is  prob- 
ably unnecessary  to  inform  you  that  we 
have  no  power  to  compel  you  to  give  us 
any  information.  In  fact,  it  is  quite  within 
your  discretion  to  preserve  absolute  silence 
if  you  choose,  until  you  have  taken  legal 
counsel.  At  the  same  time,  as  it  is  quite 
possible  that  this  is  a  case  of  mistaken 
identity,  you  can  readily  avoid  further 
complications,  and  perhaps  your  further 
detention,  by  answering  a  few  ques- 
tions." Here  the  inspector  paused,  and 
Pelham,  after  a  moment's  deliberation, 
inquired  haughtily,  "What  are  the  ques- 
tions?" 

"First,"  said  the  inspector,  "are  you 
Captain  Lansing  Black?" 


178  STORIES   OF   THE   SEA 

"Captain  Black  was  lost  at  sea  a  year 
ago,"  replied  Pelham,  without  manifest- 
ing the  slightest  emotion.  "The  papers 
were  full  of  the  affair,  and  you  must 
have  known  of  it  through  them,  if  not 
through  the  investigations  of  your  own 
department.  The  question  strikes  me  as 
an  absurdity." 

"  Next,"  said  the  inspector,  with  un- 
ruffled composure,  "were  you  a  pas- 
senger on  the  Servia,  on  her  homeward 
passage  in  June  of  last  year?" 

"I  was  not,"  replied  Pelham. 

"This  gentleman — "  said  the  inspec- 
tor, quietly,  indicating  Farnham  by  a 
motion  of  his  head — "is  prepared  to 
swear  that  you  were." 

Pelham  instantly  concentrated  his  gaze 
upon  Farnham,  and  regarded  him  in- 
tently for  a  moment  with  knitted  brows, 
much  to  that  gentleman's  discomposure. 
The  recognition  that  must  have  followed 
this  scrutiny  was,  however,  effectually 


CAPTAIN   BLACK  179 

concealed.  Beyond  a  momentary  flush 
upon  his  face,  Pelham  evinced  no  dis- 
comfiture whatever,  and,  turning  to  the 
inspector,  said,  with  a  contemptuous 
smile,  "  Then  this  gentleman  is  prepared 
to  swear  to  a  lie,"  adding,  with  a  sud- 
den burst  of  anger,  "what  rot  all  this 
is!" 

"  Possibly,"  replied  the  inspector,  cool- 
ly, "but  our  description  of  the  man  we 
want  tallies  so  closely  with  your  appear- 
ance that  the  mistake  is  pardonable. 
Read  it,  Mr.  Lethbridge,".  and  Leth- 
bridge,  taking  a  folded  paper  from  his 
pocket,  read  as  follows,  Pelham,  mean- 
while, fixing  his  eyes  upon  the  ceiling, 
and  resuming  his  former  expression  of 
nonchalance  : 

"Height,  about  five  feet  ten;  erect, 
military  carriage,  broad  shoulders,  small 
hands  and  feet ;  brown  eyes,  stern  in 
expression,  regular  features,  dark  com- 
plexion ;  reserved  and  haughty  man- 


180  STORIES   OF   THE  SEA 

ner;  wore,  when  last  seen,  a  full  brown 
beard "  here  the  detective  paused. 

"That  doesn't  help  me,"  remarked 
Pelham,  with  cool  effrontery  ;  "a  man's 
beard  may  turn  gray  in  a  twelvemonth, 
and  shaving  is,  I  believe  optional." 

"Go  on,  Lethbridge,"  said  the  in- 
spector, with  his  eyes  steadily  riveted 
on  Pelham's  face  ;  and  Lethbridge  con- 
tinued— ' '  Had  on  his  left  forearm  two 

crossed  arrows  in  India  ink "  when 

Pelham,  removing  his  gaze  from  the  ceil- 
ing, broke  in  sharply  with  "  What's  that  ?  " 

Farnham,  who  chanced  to  be  watch- 
ing Lethbridge  as  he  read,  saw  him  ex- 
change a  significant  glance  with  the 
inspector,  which  for  an  instant  puzzled 
him ;  but  as  he  turned  his  eyes  upon 
Pelham  and  noticed  the  expression  of 
his  face,  the  truth  burst  upon  him  like 
a  flash.  The  man  had  been  betrayed 
into  surprise  by  the  mention  of  this 
mark  in  a  description  of  himself. 


CAPTAIN   BLACK  l8l 

Pelham  instantly  saw  his  mistake,  and 
his  features  moved  convulsively  for  a 
moment  before  he  could  bring  them 
under  control.  In  the  death-like  silence 
that  ensued  the  ticking  of  the  clock  was 
distinctly  audible,  and  it  seemed  to 
Farnham's  excited  fancy  to  be  solemn- 
ly marking  off  the  few  minutes  that  re- 
mained before  the  closing  in  of  the  net. 
Then,  with  a  sang-froid  which  under  the 
circumstances  was  amazing,  Pelham  be- 
gan to  unbutton  the  sleeve-link  on  his 
left  wrist.  "That  is  not  necessary,  Mr. 
Pelham,"  said  the  inspector,  with  his 
deadly  gaze  still  upon  the  other's  face. 
"  Your  word  will  be  sufficient  in  this 
case,"  with  an  unpleasant  inflection  upon 
the  last  words  which  caught  Farnham's 
alert  attention  at  once.  By  this  time  the 
tension  on  his  nerves  had  become  almost 
unbearable,  and  as  he  moistened  his  dry 
lips  and  clinched  his  hands,  he  felt  that  he 
was  perhaps  the  most  agitated  man  in  the 


182  STORIES   OF   THE   SEA 

room.  Pelham,  whose  angry  flush  under 
the  examination  had  given  place  to  his 
former  deadly  pallor,  had  recovered  his 
nerve  and,  but  for  the  great  beads  of 
sweat  upon  his  forehead,  was  holding 
himself  well  in  hand. 

The  inspector  spoke  again.  "  We  have 
one  more  test  to  apply,  Mr.  Pelham," 
he  said,  with  an  ominous  accentuation 
of  the  name ;  and  making  a  sign  to 
Lethbridge,  the  detective  left  the  room 
and  almost  instantly  returned,  followed 
by  a  woman,  who  stood  just  within  the 
door  gazing  at  the  group  with  startled 
eyes.  One  glance  at  her  showed  Farn- 
ham  a  sad,  worn  face,  and  a  trembling 
hand  shielding  the  quivering  lips,  and 
he  recognized  the  poor  creature  who 
stood  on  the  landing-stage  a  year  before, 
and  stayed  Leath  with  her  hands  against 
his  breast  With  this  scene  thus  sud- 
denly recalled  to  memory,  he  turned 
his  eyes  upon  Pelham,  who  had  fixed 


CAPTAIN   BLACK  183 

his  gaze  with  terrible  intensity  upon  the 
woman's  face,  and  a  strange  horror 
came  over  him  as  he  saw  the  sem- 
blance of  Captain  Black  apparently  fad- 
ing into  a  contorted  likeness  of  Leath 
as  if  a  metempsychosis  were  unveiling 
itself  before  his  eyes.  The  inspector's 
voice  again  broke  the  silence,  address- 
ing the  woman.  "  Mrs.  Leath,  do  you 
know  this  man?  " 

"  Stop!  "  said  Pelham,  imperiously,  be- 
fore she  could  reply.  "Don't  question 
her.  This  lies  between  ourselves,  and 
you  have  no  concern  in  it.  There  is  no 
use  in  further  subterfuge.  I  shall  make 
proper  amends  to  this  injured  and  de- 
serted woman,  and  I  believe  there  is  no 
law  requiring  the  detention  of  a  man 
•who  has  merely  absented  himself  from 
his  home  and  his  wife." 

"  None  whatever,"  replied  the  in- 
spector, with  a  grim  smile. 

"  And  this  gentleman,"  continued  Pel- 


184  STORIES   OF  THE   SEA 

ham,  turning  with  a  ghastly  smile  to 
Farnham,  "  will,  I  hope,  pardon  the  rude- 
ness of  a  man  caught  in  a  hole.  The 
confusion  .of  my  face  with  that  of  Cap- 
tain Black  was  natural  enough.  We  were 
not  altogether  unlike,  and  the  lapse  of  a 
year  might  well  mislead  anyone ; "  and 
with  this  he  turned  to  Mrs.  Leath  with 
an  assumption  of  heartiness  and  held 
out  both  his  hands.  But  the  woman  re- 
coiled with  horror  in  her  eyes  and  with 
her  hands  held  up  to  repelhim.  "God 
save  me!"  she  cried,  tremulously,  "it's 
like  him  and  it  is  not.  I  don't  know 
him." 

"It's  the  beard  that  confuses  you," 
said  Pelham,  anxiously  insisting  upon 
his  identity.  "  See,  Margaret!  "  and  sep- 
arating the  hair  upon  his  chin,  he  re- 
vealed the  hideous  scar  running  down- 
ward from  the  corner  of  the  mouth. 
"Isn't  that  enough?"  he  added  appeal- 
ingly  to  Farnham,  who  could  only  stare 


CAPTAIN    BLACK  185 

in  utter  bewilderment  at  this  seemingly 
incontestable  proof;  and  then  realizing 
that  his  protestations  were  being  received 
in  ominous  silence,  he  turned  to  the  two 
officers  and  cried  passionately,  "What 
more,  in  God's  name,  do  you  want?" 

"Well,  if  it  isn't  asking  too  much," 
said  the  inspector,  quite  unmoved  by  this 
outbreak,  "  it  would  be  a  little  more 
satisfactory  to  have  your  wife  recognize 
you." 

"  She  does  recognize  me.  She  must!  " 
exclaimed  the  suspected  man,  with  des- 
perate eagerness.  "  We  had  not  met  in 
eighteen  years  when  she  saw  me  land 
at  Liverpool,  and  I  left  her  there  almost 
without  a  word.  The  woman  is  simply 
misled  by  her  absurd  emotion.  Can't  I 
be  allowed  even  to  know  who  I  am?" 

"Certainly,"  said  the  inspector,  cool- 
ly, "but  you  have  been  several  persons 
lately.  If  you  are  quite  sure  who  you 
are  now,  you  may  expose  your  left  arm. 


l86  STORIES   OF   THE  SEA 

It  was  Leath  who  had  the  mark  of  the 
crossed  arrows." 

Farnham,  glancing  at  the  man  who 
had  been  so  adroitly  unmasked,  saw  him 
recoil  as  though  he  had  been  stung,  and 
averted  his  eyes  to  avoid  witnessing  the 
distressing  spectacle  of  collapse  which 
he  thought  was  at  hand ;  but  the  other, 
nerving  himself  for  a  final  defiance, 
turned  his  back  upon  Mrs.  Leath  with 
brutal  indifference  and  said,  with  cool 
insolence,  "  I  seem  to  have  fallen  into 
your  clumsy  trap,  and,"  he  added,  with 
a  vindictive  scowl  at  Farnham,  "I  con- 
gratulate this  gentleman  upon  his  police 
work  as  a  spy,  in  running  me  down.  I 
am  Lansing  Black.  Is  there  anything 
more?" 

"Yes,"  said  the  imperturbable  inspect- 
or, "What  became  of  Roger  Leath?" 

Black  glared  at  him  wildly  for  an  in- 
stant, and  then  sank  back  into  a  chair 
and  covered  his  face  with  his  hands, 


CAPTAIN   BLACK  187 

while   Mrs.    Leath,  with   a  heartrending 
cry,  fell  heavily  to  the  floor. 

The  next  morning  Farnham  was  ner- 
vously pacing  the  floor  of  his  breakfast- 
room,  suffering  from  what  may  be  con- 
cisely described  as  a  surfeit  of  detective 
work,  when  Lethbridge  was  shown  in ; 
and  a  glance  at  that  astute  gentleman's 
face  assured  him  that  matters  were  not 
altogether  as  they  should  be  in  the  af- 
fair of  Captain  Black.  "  He  swears  he 
never  touched  Leath,"  said  the  detec- 
tive, "and  we  haven't  anything  to  go 
on  but  the  circumstantial  evidence".  I 
hoped  he  would  break  down  and  con- 
fess, but  he  is  as  hard  as  a  flint." 

"What  explanation  does  he  offer?" 
inquired  Farnham.  "The  business 
couldn't  possibly  look  blacker  for  him 
as  it  stands." 

"Well,  his  story  is  pretty  straight  as 
it  goes,"  said  Lethbridge.  "  He  says  his 


188  STORIES   OF  THE   SEA 

attention  was  first  attracted  to  Leath  by 
the  scar  on  his  chin,  having  one  precisely 
like  it  himself.  Then  he  saw  there  was 
enough  resemblance  between  them  to 
pass  among  strangers  if  he  took  oft"  his 
beard.  He  swears  he  wrote  the  note 
then  without  any  definite  plan  and  put 
it  into  his  portmanteau  simply  to  have 
it  already  there  if  he  had  to  act  with- 
out premeditation.  Likewise,  he  says  his 
idea  was  to  buy  up  Leath  to  act  with 
him  in  some  way.  That  may  be  or  it 
may  not.  As  luck  would  have  it,  Leath 
drank  heavily  that  night,  and  Black  got 
his  keys  from  him  on  pretence  of  going 
down  to  get  him  some  cigars  or  some- 
thing of  that  sort ;  and  when  at  last  they 
went  out  of  the  smoking-room,  Leath, 
who  was  as  full  as  a  lord,  put  on  the 
other  man's  ulster  by  mistake;  so  you 
see  things  seemed  to  work  pretty  hand- 
somely for  Captain  Black.  Now  he  says 
the  end  of  it  was  that  Leath  insisted  on 


CAPTAIN   BLACK  189 

sitting  upon  the  rail,  and,  by  George, 
the  first  roll  the  ship  took,  over  he  went." 

"I  shouldn't  fancy  standing  trial  on 
such  a  yarn  as  that,"  said  Farnham. 

"  No  more  would  I,"  said  Lethbridge, 
with  a  fine  idiom,  "but  there  it  is.  When 
he  was  locked  up  in  Leath's  room,  of 
course  he  read  over  his  papers  and  was 
prepared  to  meet  his  wife,  and  by  the 
way,  sir,  it  was  his  dropping  of  Mrs. 
Leath  as  gave  me  the  clue.  He  took 
her  out  to  a  cab  and  told  her  he'd  go 
and  look  after  his  luggage,  and  that  was 
the  last  she  saw  of  him.  Having  been 
on  the  ship,  I  was  called  in  to  look  him 
up,  but  he  seems  to  have  an  extraordi- 
nary way  of  making  way  with  himself, 
and  I  couldn't  find  a  trace  of  him.  Says 
he  boarded  an  outgoing  sailing-ship  and 
went  to  Copenhagen,  which  is  likely 
enough.  Now,"  continued  Mr.  Leth- 
bridge, who  seemed  to  have  conceived 
a  marked  admiration  for  Farnham's  de- 


190  STORIES   OF   THE   SEA 

tective  abilities,  "  I've  another  little  thing 
on  hand  which  perhaps  you'd  like  to 
follow  up  with  me." 

"Thank   you,"    said    Farnham,  dryly; 
"  I  believe  I've  had  enough." 


THE  LAST  SLAVE-SHIP 

BY  GEORGE  HOWE,  M.D. 


I  WAS  a  medical  student  in  New  Or- 
leans, La.,  and  the  course  of  lectures  for 
the  season  of  1858-59  had  just  closed.  My 
name,  with  others,  had  been  submitted  to 
the  administrators  of  the  Charity  Hospital 
for  appointment  as  resident  student,  a 
certain  number  being  appointed  annually, 
and  the  announcement  of  the  names  of  the 
fortunate  few  was  daily  expected.  Each 
morning  I  met  at  the  hospital  gates  our 
late  professors,  who  were  visiting  phy- 
sicians and  surgeons  to  the  hospital,  and 
with  other  students  made  the  round  of  the 
different  wards,  each  according  to  his 
special  taste. 

At  nine  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  April 
a6th,  while  I  was  awaiting  the  usual  arri- 
vals at  the  gates,  one  of  the  professors, 
Dr.  Howard  Smith,  drove  up  in  his  bug- 


194  STORIES   OF   THE  SEA 

gy,  and  without  replying  to  my  saluta- 
tion, said:  "  George,  how  would  you  like 
to  go  to  the  coast  of  Africa  ?  "  The  doc- 
tor was  a  very  pleasant  gentleman,  and  a 
great  favorite  among  the  students,  and, 
believing  him  to  be  in  a  very  pleasant 
mood,  I  replied :  "  First  rate,  doctor." 
"  How  soon  can  you  get  ready  ?  "  "I  am 
ready  now."  He  saw  from  my  perplexed 
air  that,  although  I  thought  him  jesting,  I 
did  not  understand  or  see  the  point  "  I 
am  seriously  in  earnest,  George  ;  would 
you  like  to  go?"  "Yes,  sir."  "When 
can  you  be  ready?  "  "  As  soon  as  I  can 
go  to  my  lodgings  and  pack  up. "  "Well, 
then,  come  with  me;"  and  jumping  into 
the  buggy  with  him,  I  was  hurried  to  the 
office  of  the  McDonogh  Commissioners, 
representing  Baltimore  and  New  Orleans. 
En  route,  .the  doctor  informed  me  that 
John  McDonogh  had  died  in  1850,  pos- 
sessed of  valuable  real  estate  which  he  had 
bequeathed  to  the  cities  of  New  Orleans 


THE   LAST   SLAVE-SHIP  195 

and  Baltimore  for  educational  purposes ; 
he  had  also  a  number  of  slaves,  who  were 
given  their  freedom  conditioned  upon 
their  emigration  to  Liberia,  after  a  cer- 
tain period  of  years.  That  time  had 
elapsed  and  arrangements  were  made  for 
their  transportation.  At  the  last  moment 
it  was  concluded  to  send  a  medical  officer 
with  them,  and,  said  the  doctor,  "  That 
selection  having  been  requested  of  me, 
you  are  my  choice,  if  you  will  go." 

My  engagement  was  soon  made  with 
the  commissioners,  to  render  the  negroes 
such  professional  and  other  aid  as  would 
be  necessary  on  the  voyage.  I  learned 
further  that  all  the  negroes  old  enough  to 
work  had  been  taught  trades  and  occu- 
pations, and  that  all  the  wages  they  had 
earned  since  their  master's  death  had 
been  placed  to  their  credit,  and  would  be 
distributed  among  them  before  they  left ; 
and  that  they  were  fully  equipped  with 
all  the  agricultural  and  mechanical  appli- 


196  STORIES   OF   THE  SBA 

ances  they  might  need  to  make  them 
self-sustaining  upon  arrival  at  their  future 
home.  There  were  carpenters,  black- 
smiths, coopers  among  the  men ;  and 
cooks,  laundresses,  seamstresses,  and 
nurses  among  the  women.  It  had  been 
intended  to  send  them  via  Baltimore,  by 
a  sailing-  packet  leaving  annually  in  the 
spring  for  the  colony  of  Liberia  with  im- 
migrants and  general  supplies,  and  re- 
turning with  such  products  as  the  colony 
exported  ;  but  an  opportunity  offering, 
they  would  be  sent  direct  from  New  Or- 
leans on  the  sailing  ship  Rebecca. 

In  the  office  some  of  the  gentlemen  in- 
dulged in  pleasant  jokes  about  "wool  and 
ivory,"  and  one  of  them  wrote  a  letter  to 
the  surgeon  of  the  United  States  man-of- 
war  Vincennes,  stationed  on  the  coast  of 
Africa,  saying  :  "This  is  a  letter  of  intro- 
duction and  may  be  of  use  to  you."  I 
was  so  engrossed  with  the  idea  of  going 
to  Africa  that,  although  I  heard,  I  did  not 


THE   LAST   SLAVE-SHIP  197 

attach  that  special  importance  to  the 
jokes  and  remarks  that  I  did  afterward. 
Leaving  them,  I  went  to  my  lodgings  and 
soon  packed  my  books,  clothing,  etc. 

On  my  way  to  the  ship,  I  stopped  at 
the  telegraph  office  and  sent  to  my  pa- 
rents in  Natchez,  Miss.,  the  following 
message:  "Gone  to  the  coast  of  Africa." 
I  was  on  board  the  ship  at  twelve  o'clock, 
at  the  Government  wharf,  waiting  for  the 
tow-boat,  to  be  conveyed  to  sea.  I  pre- 
sented myself  to  the  captain,  who  was 
busy  with  the  details  of  departure.  He, 
having  received  no  notice  of  my  employ- 
ment, appeared  annoyed,  but  asked  me 
to  the  cabin  and  ordered  the  steward  to 
prepare  my  room.  Going  upon  deck  I 
saw  a  motley  group  of  negroes,  mulat- 
toes,  quadroons,  men,  women,  and  chil- 
dren of  all  ages,  numbering  forty-three  ; 
they  were  busy  getting  their  baggage  on 
board.  Many  of  them  were  not  anxious 
to  go,  and  were  much  disheartened  at  the 


idea  of  leaving 
home.  Just  then  ar- 
rived several  of  the 
commissioners  with 
their  wives,  who 
were  known  to  the 
negroes,  and  after  a 
while  they  were  so  successful  in  impart- 
ing new  courage  and  cheerful  faces  to 
the  immigrants  that  their  adieus  were  less 
sad  than  I  expected. 

The  ship  left  the  wharf  at  four  o'clock 
in  the  evening.  Early  next  morning  we 
were  at  the  mouth  of  the  river,  and  in  an- 
other hour  on  the  open  sea.  A  pleasant 


THE   LAST   SLAVE-SHIP  199 

southerly  breeze  drove  us  along  about 
eight  miles  an  hour,  and  dinner  being 
called,  I  found  at  the  captain's  table 
Captain  C ,  a  naturalized  Scotch- 
Englishman,  the  first  mate,  Mr.  T , 

a  Long  Islander,  and  two  Spanish  gentle- 
men speaking  very  little  English,  and  my- 
self. An  introduction  followed,  one  Span- 
ish gentleman  explaining  that  they  were 
on  their  way  to  a  trading  point  on  the 
African  coast,  representing  a  commer- 
cial house  in  Havana,  and  that  having 
waited  a  long  while  unsuccessfully  for  an 
opportunity  to  get  there,  he  had  taken 
passage  on  this  vessel  as  far  as  its  voyage 
extended. 

Our  dinner  over,  the  mate  remained  in 
the  cabin  and  the  other  officers  came  to 
the  table  ;  we  were  thus  introduced  by 
the  mate  :  "  This  is  Dr.  Sawbones  ;  I  am 
mate  ;  here  is  the  second  mate  ;  there  is 
the  carpenter.  Now,  how  is  it  that  you 
were  engaged  at  the  last  moment  to  come 


200  STORIES   OF   THE   SEA 

with  us?"  After  explaining  all  that  I 
knew  about  it,  he  replied:  "It  would 
have  been  better  for  you  to  have  known 
something  about  the  ship  and  her  des- 
tination before  you  accepted."  This  re- 
called the  jokes  of  the  commissioners  and 
set  me  thinking. 

That  night,  during  the  mate's  watch,  I 
approached  him  and,  after  a  few  remarks 

about  the  weather,  etc.,  said:  "  Mr.  T , 

I  did  not  quite  understand  your  remark 
at  dinner  ;  if  you  can  do  so,  please  ex- 
plain." After  a  long  silence,  he  replied  : 
"  Well,  you  will  find  it  out  sooner  or  later, 
and  I  do  not  know  that  I  am  violating  any 
confidence  in  telling  you  now  ;  this  ship 
is  a  Slaver.  Yes  ;  that  is  just  what  she 
is,  and  belongs  to  a  company  of  Span- 
iards who  are  represented  here  by  the 
eldest  of  the  Spanish  passengers,  who 
will  be  the  captain  at  the  proper  time ; 
the  other  Spaniard  will  be  his  mate. 
They  purchased  this  ship  two  months 


THE   LAST   SLAVE-SHIP  2OI 

ago,  and  have  had  all  sorts  of  difficulties 
ever  since  with  the  Custom-house.  She 
sails  under  the  American  flag,  and  is  sup- 
posed to  be  owned  by  a  commission  house 
in  New  Orleans,  who  are  the  agents  there 
of  the  Spanish  company.  They  wanted 
to  obtain  papers  permitting  the  ship  to  go 
to  the  African  coast  ;  just  now  everything 
destined  there  is  regarded  with  suspicion, 
and  the  Spaniards  wanted  to  go  in  ballast 
to  seek  a  cargo  of  palm-oil,  camwood,  and 
any  other  merchandise  offering.  The 
Custom-house  authorities  declined,  for 
various  reasons,  to  issue  the  papers.  In 
the  meantime,  the  ship  had  been  loaded 
with  empty  casks  and  a  quantity  of  staves 
in  the  rough  from  which  to  manufact- 
ure other  casks,  if  necessary.  The  ques- 
tion of  getting  sufficient  supplies  of  food 
aboard  was  a  very  delicate  one,  for  food 
could  not  profitably  be  carried  as  freight 
to  that  locality,  and  it  was  not  required 
in  barter.  Then  the  Spaniards  proposed 


202  STORIES   OF  THE  SEA 

to  equip  her  as  a  whaling-ship,  with  her 
whaling-ground  from  Bermuda  to  the 
Cape  of  Good  Hope.  This  would  per- 
mit her  occasionally  to  call  on  the  African 
coast  for  water  and  fresh  food-supplies, 
yet  would  require  a  much  longer  period 
to  complete  the  trip.  Just  at  this  time 
the  commission  house  heard  of  the  pur- 
pose of  the  McDonogh  commissioners  to 
send  the  ex-slaves,  via  Baltimore,  to  Li- 
beria. After  considering  the  matter  it  was 
determined  to  offer  this  ship  as  a  means 
of  transportation  at  a  very  moderate  price. 
If  they  had  dared  to  do  so  they  would 
have  been  willing  to  pay  a  handsome 
premium ;  the  offer  was  accepted  and 
the  date  fixed.  The  Spaniards  now  had 
a  legitimate  cargo  for  the  African  coast 
and  easily  procured  the  necessary  papers 
for  a  trading  point  on  the  Congo  River, 
stopping  at  Liberia  on  the  voyage  out.  I 
can  also  tell  you  that  your  presence  here 
is  not  pleasant  for  Captain  C ,  for  he 


THE  LAST   SLAVE-SHIP 


203 


had  about  determined  to  run  down  on  the 
south  side  of  Cuba  with  these  negroes, 
leave  them  at  a  place  he  knows  of,  and 
continue  on  the  voyage.  Now,  this  can- 
not be  done,  unless  you  come  into  the 
arrangement ;  but  I  do  not  think  he  will 
say  anything  to  you  about  it.  You  are  a 
stranger  and  we  are  constantly  in  sight  of 
and  speaking  vessels,  and  it  would  be  easy 
for  you  to  say  a  few  words  which  might 
spoil  the  entire  expedition." 

Next  morning  early,  as  we  were  taking 
coffee  on  deck,  the 
captain,  in  a  gen- 
eral conversation, 
remarked:  "What 
a  valuable,  lot  of 
negroes  these  are  ; 
all  the  men  have 
some  trade  or  vo- 
cation which  makes 
them  most  desira- 
ble on  any  planta- 


204  STORIES  OF   THE  SEA 

tion.  The  women  are  all  experienced  in 
their  duties ;  they  would  bring  a  round 
sum  in  Cuba  :  and  Cuba  is  very  near,  and 
I  know  where  they  could  be  landed  with- 
out much  risk." 

I  replied:  "Captain,  these  negroes 
must  be  landed  at  their  destination  in 
Africa,  and  as  long  as  I  can,  I  will  not 
permit  any  change  of  programme." 

As  if  to  disarm  me  of  any  suspicion,  he 
said :  "  Of  course,  they  must  he  landed 
in  Liberia,  I  was  only  regretting  that  so 
much  money  is  just  thrown  away." 

During  the  mate's  watch  which  fol- 
lowed, he  asked  me  what  Captain  C 

had  said  to  me  and  my  reply  ;  for  the 
captain,  on  his  return  to  the  cabin,  had 
had  a  long  and  stormy  conversation  with 
the  Spanish  gentleman,  who  would  not 
be  persuaded  that  there  was  very  little 
risk  in  landing  the  negroes  in  Cuba, 
whether  the  doctor  consented  or  not 
I  repeated  the  conversation  between  the 


THE   LAST   SLAVE-SHIP  205 

captain  and  myself.  The  mate  replied : 
"Well,  that  matter  is  now  decided,  for 
we  are  sailing  southeast,  instead  of  south- 
west, and  th#t  means  we  will  not  stop  at 
Cuba  this  part  of  the  trip. "  Reassured  at 
this,  I  pressed  him  to  tell  me  what  he  knew 
of  the  voyage. 

"Now,"  said  he,  "I  am  interested  in 
this  ship's  voyage  as  well  as  the  others, 
and  you  must  pledge  your  word  of  honor 
to  say  nothing  to  anyone  about  it."  I  as- 
sented. "Well,  this  is  my  second  voy- 
age of  this  kind ;  the  first  was  from  New 
York  to  Africa  and  Brazil,  and  as  slavery 
will  probably  be  abolished  in  Brazil,  and 
coolies  are  getting  cheaper  than  negroes 
in  Cuba,  this  is  probably  the  last  slave- 
ship;  and  if  we  are  successful,  we  will 
land  the  last  cargo  of  slaves.  To  begin, 
you  must  understand  that  there  are  neces- 
sary, one  person  as  head  manager,  and 
three  agents,  each  one  with  an  assistant 
to  replace  the  principal  in  case  of  acci- 


2O6  STORIES   OF  THE  SEA 

dent,  sickness,  or  death.  The  head  re- 
sides in  Havana.  One  agent,  with  his  as- 
sistant, the  Spanish  captain  and  his  friend, 
on  board  with  us,  went  to  the  United 
States  to  purchase  the  fastest  sailing-ves- 
sel that  money  could  buy,  and  he  found, 
in  New  Orleans,  the  Baltimore  clipper- 
ship  Rebecca,  near  five  hundred  and  fifty 
tons,  carrying  sky-sails,  studding-sails  to 
royal  yards,  and  stay-sails  to  royals,  with 
a  record  of  fourteen  knots  to  windward, 
sailing  inside  of  four  points  from  the  wind. 
She  was  fitted  out  with  new  sails,  cord- 
age, extra  spars  and  yards,  and  a  large 
supply  of  material  with  which  to  make 
other  sails  at  sea,  and  to  replace  uncertain 
stays,  running  rigging,  etc.  The  Custom- 
house officers  seemed  to  be  suspicious  of 
her,  and  watched  everything  connected 
with  the  ship  very  closely.  Just  at  this 
time  the  offer  to  the  McDonogh  commis- 
sioners was  made  to  take  the  negroes  as 
passengers,  and  arrangements  were  com- 


THE   LAST   SLAVE-SHIP  207 

pleted.  Now  began  the  purchase  in  large 
quantities  of  rice,  white  beans,  pork,  and 
biscuit,  which  were  ostensibly  for  our  pas- 
sengers. With  a  long  hose  all  the  casks 
were  filled  with  water  from  an  opening 
below  the  water-line  in  the  ship's  bow,  a 
supply  of  lumber  was  obtained,  and  bunks 
constructed  between  decks  the  whole 
length  of  the  ship's  hold,  and  for  several 
times  the  number  of  passengers  expected ; 
a  large  cooking-furnace  was  also  built  on 
deck  Another  agent  and  his  assistant  " 
sailed  some  months  ago  for  the  coast  of 
Africa,  and  has  purchased  and  contracted 
to  carry  on  shares  as  many  negroes  as  can 
be  stowed  on  board.  The  place  where 
they  are  to  meet  is  known  on  board  only 
to  the  Spaniards ;  another  agent  and  his 
assistant  are  established  as  fishermen  on 
an  unfrequented  island  on  the  south  side 
of  Cuba,  I  know  that  much.  There,  with 
a  companion  or  two,  they  fish  for  the 
markets,  so  as  to  require  a  regular  camp 


208  STORIES   OF   THE   SEA 

and  a  small  vessel.  They  will  be  ready, 
when  we  arrive,  to  inform  us  when  and  . 
where  to  land  the  cargo.  The  head  in 
Havana  keeps  everything  in  working 
order,  and  it  is  his  particular  business  to 
fee  the  customs  officials  and  keep  them 
away  from  where  they  are  not  wanted. 
One  ounce  of  gold,  seventeen  dollars,  per 
head,  is  the  fee  he  pays  to  the  officials  for 
every  negro  landed,  who  divide  among 
themselves,  according  to  previous  ar- 
rangements." 

Life  on  board  was  a  very  pleasant  one, 
our  ship  splendidly  provisioned  with  every 
delicacy  necessary  to  our  comfort ;  with 
beautiful  weather,  our  run  in  the  Gulf 
Stream  was  full  of  interest.  We  passed 
south  of  Bermuda  and  entered  the  great 
Saragossa  sea  with  its  boundless  fields  of 
sea-weed.  Each  day  experiments  were 
made,  by  changing  size  and  character  of 
sails,  to  develop  the  greatest  speed,  and  I 


THE   LAST   SLAVE-SHIP  209 

often  wondered  where  they  could  possibly 
put  another  yard  of  canvas.  All  the 
masts  were  again  examined  and  put  to 
their  utmost  strain ;  new  stays  and  pre- 
venter-stays were  added,  until  it  was  no 
longer  doubtful  about  the  masts  being 
able  to  support  any  strain.  We  could 
easily  make  three  hundred  and  twenty  to 
three  hundred  and  forty  miles  daily,  run- 
ning as  close  to  windward  as  she  could 
sail. 

[The  original  narrative  continues  to  de- 
scribe the  voyage  and  safe  arrival  at 
Monrovia,  the  capital  of  Liberia,  where 
the  McDonogh  freedmen  were  landed. 
It  has  been  thought  advisable  to  abridge 
this.  Dr.  Howe  then  proceeds  with  his 
graphic  story  as  follows  :] 

July  4th  being  observed  as  a  "fete" 
day,  the  officers  and  myself  were  invited 
to  dine  with  the  President  of  the  Repub- 


210  STORIES   OF   THE   SEA 

lie  and  his  ministers.  Accepting  the  in- 
vitation, we  landed  on  the  beach,  in  front 
of  the  native  huts,  made  of  bamboo  and 
thatched  with  straw  when  they  had  roofs  ; 


and  ascending  the  cape  by  a  tortuous 
path,  we  met  the  only  white  man  in  the 
republic,  Rev.  Mr.  Evans,  an  Episcopal 
missionary  during  thirty  years  and  also 
acting  United  States  consul,  under  whose 
care  we  were  taken  to  the  executive  man- 
sion, were  introduced  to,  and  welcomed 
by  President  Benson;  ex- President  Rob- 
erts, and  the  cabinet. 

Before  returning  to  the  ship,  the  Rev. 
Dr.  Evans  took  me  aside  and  told  me  he 
was  in  considerable  doubt  as  to  the  char- 


THE   LAST   SLAVE-SHIP  2H 

acter  of  our  vessel  ;  that  the  Baltimore 
ship  had  not  arrived,  and  he  had  been 
authorized  by  the  government  to  tender 
me  as  my  home,  during  my  stay  await- 
ing the  Baltimore  ship,  the  cutter  lying  in 
the  harbor,  which  had  been  presented  by 
Queen  Victoria  and  was  their  only  war 
vessel.  Thanking  him  for  his  kindness,  I 
told  him  I  would  consider  the  matter. 

Reaching  the  ship,  I  told  the  officers 
they  were  suspected.  At  once  a  council 
was  held  and  a  demand  made  for  the 
landing  next  day  of  passengers  and  ef- 
fects, as,  so  far,  there  had  been  no  fixed 
date  determined  upon.  The  English 
gunboat  had  just  returned  to  Monrovia 
and  was  but  a  short  distance  from  us,  and 
her  company  was  not  desired  longer  than 
possible.  This  demand  created  some 
surprise,  as  it  was  supposed  we  would  be 
several  days  longer  getting  supplies. 

Next  morning  a  fleet  of  sloops,  canoes, 
and  yawls  came  alongside  early.  Just 


212  STORIES   OF   THE   SEA 

then  the  Spanish  captain  told  me  I  could 
go  with  the  vessel  as  far  as  the  Congo 
River,  where  I  might  meet  the  mail 
steamer.  Thanking  him,  I  accepted  and 
so  informed  the  Rev.  Mr.  Evans.  He 
further  told  me  he  suspected  Captain 

C of  treachery,  for  the  return  of  the 

cruiser  looked  like  it  By  noon  passen- 
gers and  effects  were  landed  and  the  cap- 
tain returned  with  the  ship's  papers,  etc. 
The  anchor  was  hoisted  and  away  we 
went.  The  English  cruiser  followed  with 
steam  and  sail  as  long  as  he  could  see  us ; 
but  we  sailed  twelve  miles  to  his  eight, 
and  before  dark  left  him  out  of  sight. 

The  Spanish  captain  now  appeared  on 
deck,  a  short,  swarthy,  black-whiskered 
man,  with  a  cold,  determined  look, 
dressed  in  open  shirt  with  a  large  silk 
handkerchief  around  his  neck,  white 
trousers,  with  a  large  red  sash  wrapped 
several  times  around  his  waist,  a  wide 
soft  hat — a  typical  bandit  His  assistant 


214  STORIES   OF  THE   SEA 

followed  in  almost  similar  costume,  and 
went  forward  and  rang  the  ship's  bell  ; 
the  crew  was  called  to  the  after-deck, 

where  the  Spanish  Captain  A thus 

addressed  them,  in  Spanish  and  English  : 

"  Men,  I  am  now  the  captain  of  this 
ship  ;  this  is  my  first  mate,"  introducing  his 
assistant ;  "  the  other  subordinate  officers 
are  retained  in  their  positions :  the  late 
captain  and  mate  will  be  respected  and 
advised  with.  The  object  of  this  voyage 
is  a  cargo  of  negroes  to  be  purchased  in 
Africa  and  landed  in  Cuba  ;  the  trip  is 
full  of  peril,  but  if  successful,  full  of 
money.  If  there  is  one  of  you  who  de- 
sires to  go  ashore,  the  ship  will  stop  at  a 
place  where  he  can  be  safely  landed,  and 
double  wages  to  date  given  him." 

All  expressing  themselves  anxious  to 
sign  new  articles,  the  wages  were  de- 
clared, if  the  voyage  was  successful,  to 
be :  For  American  captain  and  first 
mate,  $5,000  each ;  second  mate,  $3,500  ; 


THE   LAST   SLAVE-SHIP 


215 


carpenter,  $3,000;  each  sailor,  $1,500. 
Our  crew  numbered  twenty-three,  all 
told,  Turks,  Greeks,  Italians,  Spaniards, 
Scotch,  Yankees,  and  Danes. 

It  was  plain  that  the  Spanish  captain 
did  not  trust  Captain  C ,  and  al- 
though they  were  courteous  to  each  other, 
there  was  an  entire  absence  of  familiarity. 
The  crew  had  the  same  feeling,  and  on 

one  occasion,  while  Captain  C was 

inspecting  the  rudder  hinges  and  sus- 
pended in  a  bow-line  over  the  stern,  the 
sailor  at  the  wheel  took  out  his  knife  and 
made  a  movement  as  if  to  sever  the  rope 
and  drop  the  captain  into  the  sea.  I  saw 
the  movement  and  called  the  Spanish 
captain's  attention.  He  positively  and 
firmly  forbade  anything  like  an  attempt 

on  the  life  of  Captain  C ,  unless  it 

was  plain  he  intended  treachery  ;  then 
he  would  act,  and  promptly. 

We  were  some  weeks  in  advance  of  the 
time  for  the  arrival  of  our  ship  at  a  point 


2l6  STORIES   OF  THE  SEA 

agreed  upon,  where  the  first  intelligence 
could  be  had  of  the  agents  sent  there 
months  before,  and  we  sailed  leisurely 
along  until  one  day's  sail  from  Mayumba. 
This  portion  of  the  coast  was  carefully 
guarded  by  the  United  States,  English, 
Portuguese,  and  Spanish  steam  and  sail- 
ing vessels,  so  that  in  approaching  the 
coast  there  was  considerable  risk  of  be- 
ing overhauled.  Although  our  papers 
were  regular  to  a  point  on  Congo  River, 
yet  the  vessel  might  have  been  seized  as 
suspicious,  and  subjected  to  a  return  to 
Sierra  Leone  ;  and  there,  the  matter  fully 
investigated  by  a  court  organized  to  con- 
demn and  confiscate. 

One  day  our  movements  were  so  regu- 
lated that,  by  sailing  all  night  toward  the 
coast,  we  would  be,  at  daylight,  fifteen 
miles  distant  A  yawl  was  then  lowered, 
and  the  Spanish  captain  with  two  sailors 
entered  it,  provided  with  two  days'  sup- 
plies and  compass,  and  pulled  away  for 


THE   LAST   SLAVE-SHIP  2IJ 

land.  We  at  once  returned  to  sea,  and 
forty  days  after  were  to  return  to  the 
place  where  the  Spanish  captain  had  ex- 
pected to  land.  We  were  now  under  the 
control  of  the  Spanish  mate  and  put  to 
sea,  four  hundred  miles  from  land,  then 
sailed  back  one  day,  and  the  next  re- 
turned to  sea,  for  the  entire  period  of 
forty  days,  never  coming  within  two  hun- 
dred miles  of  the  shore.  This  was  a  very 
quiet  and  uneventful  cruise  ;  on  two  oc- 
casions only  did  we  see  vessels,  which 
proved  to  be  whalers  whom  we  gave  a 
wide  berth. 

At  daylight,  on  the  morning  of  the  for- 
tieth day,  we  had  approached  the  coast 
near  enough  to  see  distinctly  objects 
along  the  shore.  Yet,  seeing  no  living 
creature,  we  were  evidently  a  little  out 
of  the  exact  position,  so  sending  a  man 
aloft,  to  be  sure  no  vessel  was  in  sight, 
we  ran  along  the  coast  a  few  miles,  when 
we  saw  a  negro  waving  a  large  white  flag, 


with  a  red  cross  its  en- 
tire length  and  width  ; 
this  was  the  signal,  and 
in  a  short  time  we  saw 
several  negroes  drag- 
ging our  yawl  to  the 
water  from  its  place  of 
concealment.  In  an 

hour,  Captain    A 

was  again  on  board.  It 
was  plain  that  some- 
thing had  gone  wrong  ; 
the  agent  and  assistant 
had  arrived  much  later 
than  anticipated  ;  both  had  been  ill  with 
African  fever  and  were  at  a  trading  post 
on  Congo  River,  trying  to  get  well.  Brit- 
ish cruisers  had  passed  almost  daily  where 
we  were  then,  and  could  be  expected  at 
any  moment.  A  council  was  again  held 
in  the  cabin  ;  the  ship  put  to  sea,  and  it 
was  determined  that,  as  our  papers  were 
regular  and  permitted  us  to  go  to  Congo 


THE   LAST   SLAVE-SHIP  219 

,  River,  we  would  proceed  there  at  once 
and  there  await  events. 

Long  before  we  reached  Congo  River, 
we  saw  the  discoloration  of  the  sea  from 
the  muddy  stream.  Far  at  sea  we  met 
floating  islands  of  vegetation  as  much  as 
twenty  feet  square.  Approaching  the 
river  from  the  sea,  there  was  on  the  left 
an  elevated  plateau,  at  the  base  of  which 
the  French  Government  had  a  station, 
where  negroes  were  apprenticed  to  em- 
ployers in  the  French  islands  of  the  West 
Indies,  for  a  number  of  years,  for  a  little 
more  than  the  Spaniards  purchased  them 
outright.  The  apprentices  did  not  get 
the  money,  but  the  government  agent,  in 
consideration  of  the  money,  obliged  his 
government  to  secure  them  a  home,  etc., 
at  the  expiration  of  contract.  A  French 
gun-boat  lay  at  the  station  as  we  passed 
by. 

The  river  is  irregular  in  width,  from 
two-thirds  to  one  and  a  half  mile,  shallow, 


220  STORIES   OF   THE   SEA 

full  of  islands,  with  a  very  tortuous  chan- 
nel from  side  to  side.  We  secured  the 
services  of  a  pilot,  a  prince  of  one  of  the 
Congo  tribes  near  us,  on  the  left  bank  as 
you  ascend.  His  costume  was  an  old 
military  coat  and  a  much  dilapidated 
Panama  hat,  his  wrists  and  arms  encir- 
cled with  thick  silver  rings  and  with  a 
multitude  of  others  of  a  kind  of  fibre. 
Short  in  stature,  about  five  feet  three  or 
four  inches,  fine  regular  features,  as  are 
all  of  the  Congoes,  perfect  teeth,  hand- 
somely developed  limbs,  and  clean  for  a 
negro. 

Light  winds  and  the  strong  current  de- 
layed our  arrival  at  the  trading  station, 
about  seventy  miles  from  the  mouth,  un- 
til the  next  day.  Arriving,  we  found  a 
boat  with  two  white  men  in  it ;  one  was 
recognized  as  the  agent's  assistant,  and 
before  they  reached  us,  we  were  informed 
that  the  agent  had  died  of  consumption 
and  African  fever.  The  speaker  was 


THE   LAST   SLAVE-SHIP 


slowly  convalescing,  and  all  trading  op- 
erations had  been  suspended  until  his 
recovery  or  the  ar- 
rival oftheship.  ^  .^ 
His  companion  in 
the  boat  was  a 
trader  at  whose  post 
he  had  found  a 
home.  We  were 
now  in  for  a  delay 
of  some  time,  as 
Spaniards  move 
slowly.  We  were 
anchored  about  sev- 
enty-five yards  from 
the  shore  or  left  bank 
going  up  stream. 

One  day  we  saw 
coming  up  the  river 
a  man-of-war's  long 
boat,  with  an  officer 

and  ten  men ;  they  anchored  almost  im- 
mediately under  our  bow,  and  there  they 


222  STORIES   OF  THE   SEA 

remained  as  long  as  we  were  in  the  river  ; 
they  were  from  the  gun-boat  Tigris  and 
had  spoken  the  Vixen,  which  we  learned 
had  gone  farther  south  to  look  out  for  us. 
The  Tigris  lay  at  the  mouth  of  the  river 
to  intercept  us,  if  an  attempt  be  made  to 
leave  with  a  cargo  of  negroes.  Again  the 
Spanish  captain  left  us  for  many  days. 
It  being  necessary  to  replenish  our  store 
of  water,  it  was  done  with  a  hose  through 
the  opening  in  the  bow,  without  the  boat's 
crew  knowing  anything  about  it,  although 
but  a  few  feet  distant. 

During  this  time  I  took  several  trips  up 
the  river,  going  farther  than  any  white 
man  had  been  known  to  ascend  it,  and 
saw  many  tribes  of  negroes  who  had 
heard  of  white  men  from  the  lower  tribes, 
but  had  never  seen  one,  and  was  much  of 
a  curiosity  with  my  European  clothing 
and  my  white  skin. 

From  the  Spaniard  with  me  I  learned 


THE   LAST   SLAVE-SHIP  223 

that  enough  negroes  had  been  purchased 
and  contracted  for  to  be  transported  on 
shares,  to  load  our  ship,*  and  that  her  de- 
parture was  only  a  question  of  when  they 
could  be  put  on  board  without  risk  of 
small-pox  reappearing  among  them.  The 
negroes  were  then  sent  by  easy  marches 
to  a  place  half  a  day's  journey  from  the 

*  From  the  factors  I  learned  something  about 
the  manner  in  which  the  slave  trade  was  carried 
on  in  Africa.  A  trader,  Portuguese  always,  pro- 
cured consent  from  a  head  of  a  strong  tribe  to 
establish  himself  among  them,  and  paid  liberally 
in  presents  for  the  privilege.  Consent  obtained, 
a  barracoon  was  at  once  built,  and  each  member 
of  the  tribe  was  a  self-constituted  guardian  to 
protect  it  ;  a  scale  of  prices  was  agreed  upon  for 
negroes,  according  to  age  and  sex,  averaging 
two  fathoms  or  four  yards  of  calico,  one  flint-lock 
musket,  one  six-pound  keg  of  coarse  powder, 
one  two-gallon  keg  of  rum,  some  beads  and 
brass  wire  ;  an  English  value  of  about  eight 
dollars  gold  for  each  negro  captured  by  this 
tribe  from  neighboring  and  weaker  ones.  There 
had  been  a  lower  rate  of  prices  until  within  a  few 
years,  when  competition  had  slowly  increased 
them  to  present  rates. 


224  STORIES   OF  THE  SEA 

sea-coast,  where  they  would  remain  until 
the  time  agreed  upon  to  move  to  the 
coast  This  last  march  to  the  coast  was 
always  done  at  night,  so  that  they  had 
ample  time  to  arrive  before  daylight. 
The  ship  was  due  at  daylight,  and  if  she 
could  not  reach  the  coast  at  that  hour, 
the  whole  business  was  postponed  gen- 
erally one  week,  the  negroes  immediately 
returned  to  the  half-day  station,  rested, 
and  cared  for.  We  returned  to  the  ship 
on  the  river,  and  found  quiet  preparations 
being  made  to  leave  at  a  moment's  no- 
tice ;  the  officers  purchasing  goats,  poul- 
try, and  fruit. 

Captain  A alone  knew  the  locality 

where  the  negroes  would  be  met,  and  it 
was  impossible  for  any  sailor  to  have 
given  information  of  value  to  the  English 
in  their  boat  under  our  bow. 

No  opportunity  had  yet  offered  for  my 
return  to  America,  and  the  ship  was  about 


THE   LAST   SLAVE-SHIP  225 

to  sail.  I  could  not  make  up  my  mind  to 
remain  on  Congo  River,  and  risk  African 
fever  for  an  indefinite  period.  The  spirit 
of  adventure,  considerable  curiosity,  and 
great  confidence  in  my  good  luck,  prompt- 
ed me  to  accept  an  invitation  from  the 
Spanish  captain  to  remain  with  the  ship. 
At  this  time  we  learned  that  a  Portuguese 
man-of-war  had  visited  the  mouth  of  the 
river  and,  finding  the  English  gun-boat 
Vixen  there,  had  gone  on  to  the  north. 
This  made  things  very  much  mixed,  one 
cruiser  south,  one  at  the  river's  mouth, 
and  one  north,  and  the  Portuguese  was 
the  worst  one  of  all.  At  that  time,  if  a 
vessel  was  captured  with  negroes  on 
board,  they,  and  the  ship  with  her  officers, 
were  taken  to  Sierra  Leone ;  the  sailors 
being  landed  at  or  near  the  place  of  capt- 
ure to  look  out  for  themselves.  If  the 
ship  had  a  flag  and  could  be  identified, 
the  officers  were  transferred  at  Sierra 
Leone  to  their  respective  governments  for 


226  STORIES   OF   THE   SEA 

trial,  the  negroes  sent  ashore,  and  an  at- 
tempt at  colonization  made,  and  the  ship 
sold  and  broken  up  ;  but  if  no  nationality 
could  be  established,  the  officers  were  im- 
prisoned for  a  term  at  Sierra  Leone,  with 
or  without  civil  trials.  If  the  Portuguese 
made  a  capture,  every  officer  and  sailor 
was  sent  to  their  penal  settlements,  and 
that  was  the  last  ever  heard  of  them. 
The  American  Government  had  the  sail- 
ing man-of-war  Vincennes  stationed  near 
us  ;  we  did  not  wish  to  meet  her,  for  she 
was  a  fine  sailer. 

One  morning,  early,  about  October  i, 
1859,  the  anchor  was  raised  and  we  sailed 
down  the  river  ;  our  papers  yet  protected 
us,  for  we  had  ostensibly  made  an  unsuc- 
cessful mercantile  venture,  and  were  re- 
turning home.  We  took  the  English  yawl 
in  tow,  and  inviting  the  officer  on  board, 
enjoyed  a  pleasant  trip  to  the  mouth  of 
the  river,  reaching  there  in  the  afternoon. 
The  gun-boat  steamed  alongside  to  get 


THE   LAST   SLAVE-SHIP  227 

her  officer  and  learn  our  destination,  and 
being  informed  "United  States,"  said: 
"Oh!  of  course  !  perhaps!"  Our  course 
during  the  evening  and  night  was  north- 
west, as  if  we  were  returning  to  the 
United  States.  This  was  to  get  off  shore 
and  ascertain  the  strength  of  the  wind  at 
that  season,  at  different  distances,  also  to 
see  what  speed  we  could  make.  At  day- 
light our  course  was  shaped  south,  and  all 
hands  employed  in  removing  every  trace 
of  name  from  bow,  stern,  and  small  boats. 
The  ship's  side  was  painted  all  black — we 
had  white  ports  before.  Every  paper  or 
scrap  that  could  be  found  was,  with  our 
American  flag  weighted  and  thrown  over- 
board. 

"  Now  !  "  said  Captain  A ,  "  we  have 

no  name,  and  no  nationality  ;  we  are  no- 
body and  know  nothing.  If  we  are  capt- 
ured, every  mouth  must  be  sealed,  in 
that  way  only  can  we  escape  the  severe 
penalties." 


228  STORIES    OF   THE   SEA 

For  four  days  and  nights  we  cruised 
about,  keeping  the  distance  of  nearly  one 
hundred  and  fifty  miles  from  land.  On 
the  afternoon  of  the  fourth  day,  having 
taken  accurate  observations  of  our  posi- 
tion at  sea,  our  course  was  shaped  for  the 
coast ;  every  light  was  extinguished  but 
that  of  the  binnacle,  which  was  hooded  so 
that  the  man  at  the  wheel  could  see  the 
compass  and  yet  the  light  could  not  be 
seen ;  an  extra  watch  was  kept,  and  at 
three  o'clock  next  morning  we  were  within 
two  miles  of  the  shore,  latitude  6°  10'  south, 
previously  agreed  upon.  So  correct  were 
the  chronometers,  and  the  estimation  of 
wind  and  current,  that  there  was  no  error 
in  our  calculations,  we  could  hear  the 
roar  of  the  breakers,  but  there  was  not 
light  enough  to  see  the  shore.  As  it  grew 
lighter  we  could  see  the  low  shore-line, 
which  appeared  to  be  broken  into  small 
hillocks  of  sand  sparsely  covered  with  a 
scrubby  vegetation. 


THE   LAST   SLAVE-SHIP 


229 


A  number  of  small  craft  could  be  seen 
outside  the  breakers,  they  resembled 
oyster -boats.  After  a  satisfactory  scru- 


tiny of  the  horizon  with  a  glass  from  the 
masthead,  our  signal,  a  large  white  flag 
with  a  red  cross,  was  hoisted,  and  as  it 
blew  out  was  answered  from  the  shore. 
Very  soon  the  beach  seemed  to  swarm 
with  moving  objects  which  we  could  not 
yet  distinguish.  A  number  of  long,  black 
objects  left  the  shore,  and,  when  through 
the  breakers,  they  stopped  at  the  small 
craft  outside.  Now  we  could  see  that  the 
negroes  were  being  transferred  to  the 
boats  outside  the  breakers,  from  canoes, 
which  ran  through  them,  with  from  four 


230  STORIES  OF  THE  SEA 

to  six  in  each.  As  the  sloops  were  filled 
they  sailed  for  the  ship,  and,  ladders  hav- 
ing been  arranged,  the  negroes  were  soon 
coming  over  the  ship's  side  ;  as  each  one 
reached  the  deck  he  was  given  a  biscuit 
and  sent  below.  It  seemed  slow  work  at 
first,  but  as  the  canoes  were  soon  all 
launched  and  rushing  through  the  surf,  it 
presented  a  busy  scene.  The  sloops  were 
now  flying  to  and  from  us,  and  a  great 
number  of  negroes  were  already  on  board 
at  2  P.M. 

The  lookout  at  the  masthead  shouted : 
"Sail,  ho!  away  to  the  southward." 
From  the  deck  we  could  see  nothing.  A 
danger  signal  was  hoisted  at  once  to  hur- 
ry all  aboard  faster  ;  in  a  short  while  we 
could  see  from  the  deck  a  little  black  spot. 
Smoke !  A  cruiser !  Another  signal,  a 
blood-red  flag,  was  hoisted,  informing 
those  ashore  of  the  kind  of  danger.  If 
possible  the  bustle  ashore  was  increased  ; 
our  own  boats  were  lowered,  and  they 


THE  LAST   SLAVE-SHIP  231 

aided  materially.  The  approaching  ves- 
sel had  seen  us  and  the  volume  of  smoke 
increased.  She  could  now  be  seen,  and 
was  recognized  as  the  Vixen  with  the 
naked  eye.  A  signal  from  shore  that  a 
very  few  remained  was  hoisted,  another 
hour  passed,  and  the  vessel  was  certainly 
within  three  miles.  Our  boats  were  re- 
called, and  the  entire  fleet  of  sloops  soon 
sailed  toward  us.  Our  boats  were  hoisted, 
and  lines  thrown  to  the  sloops  now  along- 
side. The  Vixen  now  changed  her  course 
slightly  and  fired  a  solid  shot,  which 
passed  to  leeward  of  us,  beyond.  At  this 
the  Spanish  captain  cried  out :  "  Let  go  !  " 
The  pin  holding  the  staple  in  the  anchor- 
chain  was  cut,  and  the  chain  parted.  Sail 
was  hoisted  rapidly,  the  negroes  in  the 
sloops  climbed  over  the  ship's  side,  and 
as  the  sloops  were  emptied  they  were  cast 
adrift  with  their  single  occupant,  a  Kroo- 
man.  They  scattered  like  frightened 
birds. 


"232  STORIES   OF   THE   SEA 

We  seemed  a  long  time  getting  head- 
way, and  everybody  was  looking  very 
anxious,  as  other  sails  were  set ;  studding- 
sails  were  added,  stay-sails  hoisted,  and  a 
large  square  sail  on  the  mizzen-mast  from 
the  deck  to  topsail — such  a  cloud  of  can- 
vas 'that  I  felt  sure  the  masts  would  go 
overboard.  The  Vixen  was  now  within 
one  mile  and  she  seemed  to  have  wonder- 
ful speed ;  again  she  changed  her  course 
and  there  followed  a  puff  of  smoke.  That 
was  too  close  for  comfort,  I  thought,  as 
the  splashing  sea  showed  where  the  ball 
ricocheted,  and  so  very  near.  We  seemed 
to  have  gained  some  in  distance  during 
this  manoeuvre,  and  the  wind  grew  strong- 
er the  farther  we  got  from  land.  A  cloud 
of  black  smoke  showed  that  a  grand  effort 
was  being  made  by  our  pursuer  to  recover 
the  distance  lost  while  changing  her  course 
to  fire  at  us.  We  were  now  easily  going 
ahead  and  the  distance  was  greater  be- 
tween us,  the  wind  so  strong  that  we  were 


THE   LAST   SLAVE-SHIP  233 

compelled  to  take  in  the  lofty  studding- 
sails.  Another  hour,  and  it  was  getting 
near  night,  with  the  cruiser  at  least  five 
miles  astern,  still  holding  on,  hoping  some- 
thing would  happen  to  disable  us  yet. 
Night  fell,  but  we  continued  our  course 
without  change  until  midnight,  when  we 
sailed  south  southwest  until  daylight,  so 
that  if  something  should  happen  to  our 
masts,  we  should  be  far  from  the  route 
of  our  pursuer  if  he  still  followed  us. 

At  daylight  we  were  on  a  west  by  north 
course,  and  the  southeast  trade-wind  was 
driving  us  along  fourteen  knots  an  hour. 
Looking  around,  I  found  a  number  of 
strange  white  men,  Spaniards,  represent- 
ing the  barracoon  from  which  some  of  the 
negroes  were  taken  on  shares  ;  one  half 
for  the  ship,  the  other  half  for  the  own- 
er, whose  representative  would  purchase 
merchandise  in  the  United  States  or  Eng- 
land, and  ship  to  St.  Paul  de  Loanda  in 
the  mail  steamer,  and  from  there  in  small 


234  STORIES   OF   THE   SEA 

sloops  to  destination.  Among  the  sail- 
ors I  found  a  number  of  strange  faces, 
the  crew  of  a  captured  vessel  previously 
spoken  of.  They  were  glad  to  have  a 
chance  to  return. 

During  the  embarkation  I  was  engaged 
separating  those  negroes  who  did  not  ap- 
pear robust,  or  who  had  received  some 
trifling  injury  in  getting  on  deck,  and 
sending  them  to  an  improvised  hospital 
made  by  bulkheading  a  space  in  the  rear 
of  the  forecastle.  The  others,  as  they  ar- 
rived, were  stowed  away  by  the  Spanish 
mate  ;  so  that  when  all  were  aboard  there 
was  just  room  for  each  to  lie  upon  one 
side.  As  no  one  knew  what  proportion 
were  men,  all  were  herded  together.  The 
next  morning  the  separation  took  place ; 
the  women  and  girls  were  all  sent  on 
deck,  and  numbered  about  four  hundred. 
Then  a  close  bulkhead  was  built  across 
the  ship  and  other  bunks  constructed. 
The  women  were  then  sent  below,  and 


236  STORIES   OF   THE   SEA 

enough  men  sent  up  to  enable  the  carpen- 
ter to  have  room  to  construct  additional 
bunks.  A  more  docile  and  easily  man- 
aged lot  of  creatures  cannot  be  imagined. 
No  violence  of  any  kind  was  necessary  ; 
it  was  sometimes  difficult  to  make  them 
understand  what  was  wanted ;  but  as 
soon  as  they  comprehended,  immediate 
compliance  followed. 

The  negroes  were  now  sent  on  deck 
in  groups  of  eight  and  squatted  around 
a  large  wooden  platter,  heaping-full  of 
cooked  rice,  beans,  and  pork  cut  into 
small  cubes.  The  platters  were  made  by 
cutting  off  the  head  of  flour  or  other  bar- 
rels, leaving  about  four  inches  of  the 
staves.  Each  negro  was  given  a  wooden 
spoon,  which  all  on  board  had  amused 
themselves  in  making  during  our  forty- 
day  trip.  Barrel  staves  were  sawed  into 
lengths  of  eight  inches,  split  into  other 
pieces  one  and  a  half  inch  wide,  and  then 
shaped  into  a  spoon  with  our  pocket- 


THE   LAST    SLAVE-SHIP 


237 


knives.  It  was  surprising  what  good 
spoons  could  be  made  in  that  manner. 
A  piece  of  rope-yarn  tied  to  a  spoon  and 
hung  around  the  neck  was  the  way  in 
which  every  individual  retained  his  prop- 
erty. There  not  being 
room  on  deck  for  the  en- 
tire cargo  to  feed  at  one 
time,  platters  were  sent 
between  decks,  so  that 
all  ate  at  one  hour,  three 
times  daily.  Casks  of 
water  were  placed  in 
convenient  places,  and 
an  abundant  supply  fur- 
nished day  and  night. 
When  night  came  they 
were  stowed  in  their  new  quarters,  the  men 
amidships,  the  women  in  the  apartment 
bulkheaded  from  the  men  aft,  the  hospi- 
tal forward.  Looking  down  through  the 
hatches  they  were  seen  like  sardines  in 
a  box,  on  the  floor  and  in  the  bunks,  as 


233 


STORIES   OF  THE   SEA 


close  as  they  could  be  crowded.  Large 
wind-sails  furnished  a  supply  of  fresh  air, 
and  the  open  hatches  sufficient  ventila- 
tion. 

A  muster  was  made  the 
next  day  to  verify  the  lists 
held  by  each  party  repre- 
sented. I  was  curious  to 
know  how  each  owner  could 
single  out  his  property 
among  so  many  that  did  not 
present  any  distinguishing 
peculiarities.  I  discovered 
that  each  factor  had  a  dis- 
tinguishing brand  ;  some  a 
letter,  others  a  geometrical 
figure  ;  and  every  negro  was 
branded  with  a  hot  iron  on 
the  left  shoulder,  a  few  days  before  ship- 
ment, by  his  owner  or  representative. 
They  were  all  young,  none  less  than 
twelve  or  fourteen,  and  none  appearing 
over  thirty  years.  Their  contentment  that 


THE  LAST   SLAVE-SHIP  239 

day  surprised  me.  They  numbered,  all 
told,  near  twelve  hundred. 

Captain  A then  selected  about 

twenty  of  the  strong  men  and  clothed 
them  with  a  sack  which  had  holes  cut  in 
it  for  head  and  arms ;  these  men  were 
called  Camisas  (shirts),  and  were  required 
to  do  the  scrubbing  and  cleaning  between 
decks,  etc.,  and  given  daily  a  small  allow- 
ance of  rum.  The  women  were  divided 
into  squads  and  sent  on  the  after-deck  for 
an  hour  for  each  squad.  This  changing 
kept  iip  until  night ;  the  men  were  con- 
fined to  the  main-deck  between  cabin 
and  forecastle,  and  sent  in  squads  of  as 
many  as  could  get  on  deck  at  once.  As 
they  came  up  on  the  first  trip,  each  morn- 
ing, every  one  plunged  into  casks  of  salt 
water  and  ran  about  until  dry. 

Notwithstanding  their  apparent  good 
health,  each  morning  three  or  four  dead 
would  be  found,  brought  upon  deck, 
taken  by  arms  and  heels,  and  tossed  over- 


240  STORIES   OF   THE  SEA 

board  as  unceremoniously  as  an  empty 
bottle.  Of  what  did  they  die  ?  and  al- 
ways at  night  ?  In  the  barracoons  it  was 
known  that  if  a  negro  was  not  amused 
and  kept  in  motion,  he  would  mope, 
squat  down  with  his  chin  on  his  knees 
and  arms  clasped  about  his  legs,  and  in 
a  very  short  time  die.  Among  civilized 
races  it  is  thought  impossible  to  hold 
one's  breath  until  death  follows ;  it  is 
thought  the  Africans  can  do  so.  They  had 
no  means  of  concealing  anything,  and 
certainly  did  not  kill  each  other.  The 
duties  of  the  Camisas  were  also  to  look 
after  the  other  negroes  during  the  day, 
and  when  found  sitting  with  knees  up 
and  head  drooping,  the  Camisas  would 
start  them  up,  run  them  about  the  deck, 
give  them  a  small  ration  of  rum,  and  di- 
vert them  until  in  a  normal  condition. 
The  slaves  fraternized  as  if  belonging  to 
the  same  tribe,  and  I  do  not  recall  a  single 
instance  of  an  altercation. 


THE  LAST   SLAVE-SHIP  24! 

We  were  now  near  the  end  of  October 
and  rapidly  approaching  the  Caribbee  Isl- 
ands. Maps  were  examined,  and,  after 
some  discussion,  it  was  thought  safest  to 
run  between  the  French  islands  of  Mar- 
tinique and  Dominique,  and  our  course 
was  shaped  for  the  fifteenth  degree  of 
latitude,  being  midway.  One  morning 
the  mountains  of  each  could  be  seen,  and 
as  we  passed  between  the  islands,  they 
appeared  about  twelve  miles  distant. 
Thus  far  we  had  not  met  a  sail,  and  in 
passing,  although  at  considerable  dis- 
tance, sent  all  the  negroes  below,  that  we 
might  appear  to  be  an  ordinary  mer- 
chantman. We  kept  about  one  hundred 
miles  south  of  Porto  Rico,  San  Domingo, 
and  Hayti,  until  we  were  near  the  ex- 
treme western  end  of  Hayti.  Our  route 
was  now  between  Hayti  and  Jamaica,  as 
it  was  thought  the  winds  would  hold  bet- 
ter than  going  to  the  south  of  Jamaica. 
While  about  midway,  the  lookout  discov- 


242  STORIES   OF   THE  SEA 

ered  a  steamer  far  to  the  westward,  and 
as  its  course  was  not  yet  known,  we 
shortened  such  sail  as  could  be  done 
without  discovery  and  waited.  After  half 
an  hour  it  was  seen  that  the  steamer's 
course  was  almost  east,  and  would  inter- 
cept us.  We  slightly  changed  our  course 
that  we  might  pass  behind,  and  sent  all 
the  negroes  below  as  well  as  the  greater 
part  of  the  white  men.  We  desired  to 
pass  so  far  distant  that  the  absence  of  a 
name  on  our  bow  would  not  be  noticed. 
The  steamer  was  very  slow,  and  was 
thought  to  be  the  English  mail  steamer 
from  Kingston,  touching  at  Hayti  and  San 
Domingo.  She  passed  about  five  miles  dis- 
tant, and  we  breathed  freely  after  her  dis- 
appearance, then  all  sail  was  again  made, 
the  negroes  sent  on  deck,  and  an  extra  bis- 
cuit given  each  one  as  a  thank-offering. 

We  were  soon  north  of  Jamaica,  but 
there  was  a  dangerous  place  which  wor- 
ried us  greatly,  Cape  de  Cruz,  the  ex- 


THE   LAST   SLAVE-SHIP  243 

treme  southern  point  of  Cuba,  and  on  the 
eastern  end  Our  course  was  now  north- 
west. Vessels  from  the  United  States  ap- 
proach very  closely,  thereby  saving  dis- 
tance to  Trinidad,  a  prominent  port  on 
the  south  side  of  Cuba,  where  sugar  and 
molasses  are  largely  exported.  We  knew 
that  an  American  cruiser  was  stationed 
here  to  intercept  slavers,  and  we  did  not 
wish  to  run  a  race  with  her.  The  speed 
of  our  ship  was  so  governed  that  we 
could  run  by  the  dreaded  locality  late  at 
night  and  at  a  considerable  distance, 
about  fifty  miles.  To  do  so  we  put  on  all 
the  sail  which  could  be  safely  carried. 

I  now  for  the  first  time  learned  our  des- 
tination :  Take  a  map  of  Cuba  and  you 
will  see,  south-southeast  of  Puerto  Prin- 
cipe a  chain  of  six  little  islands  running 
parallel  with  the  island  of  Cuba,  and 
about  twenty-five  or  thirty  miles  distant. 
The  second  one  from  the  western  end  is 
the  largest ;  it  has  a  scrubby  growth  of 


244  STORIES   OF   THE   SEA 

mangrove  bushes  about  eight  feet  high,  a 
few  cocoanut-trees,  and  a  most  valuable 
spring  of  fresh  water.  It  is  less  than  a 
mile  wide  and  nearly  three  miles  long,  of 
coral  formation,  but  a  few  feet  above  the 
level  of  the  sea. 

It  was  necessary  that  our  approach  be 
after  mid-day,  so  that  the  negroes  could 
be  discharged  and  the  vessel  disposed  of 
before  dark.  By  burning  it  at  night  the 
light  would  have  attracted  greater  atten- 
tion than  in  the  day,  and  during  the  day 
it  might  have  been  supposed  some  brush 
was  burning  ashore.  The  place  was  a 
regular  highway  for  all  vessels  approach- 
ing and  leaving  the  south  of  Cuba. 

November  3d,  we  were  but  fifty  miles 
distant  at  daylight,  with  light  winds,  mak- 
ing about  eight  miles  an  hour.  About  ten 
o'clock,  some  few  miles  ahead  of  us,  we 
saw  an  American  bark  bound  in  the  same 
direction.  It  never  would  have  done  to 
approach  her  near  enough  to  be  spoken, 


THE   LAST   SLAVE-SHIP  245 

for  the  captain  would,  in  all  probability, 
have  invited  himself  aboard  to  have  a  chat 
for  an  hour  or  two.  We  could  not  shorten 
sail,  for  it  would  have  attracted  attention, 
the  more  so  as  her  canvas  had  been  re- 
duced to  enable  us  the  sooner  to  overhaul 

her.     What  could  we  do  ?    Captain  A 

called  the  carpenter,  who,  with  the  assist- 
ance of  the  crew,  brought  on  deck  two 
large  water-casks.  The  head  of  each  was 
removed,  ropes  secured  to  the  rim,  and 
lowered  astern,  so  that  they  would  drag 
with  the  open  end  toward  the  ship;  as 
soon  as  the  ropes  tightened  our  speed  was 
reduced  so  much  that  the  bark  rapidly 
drew  ahead,  and  in  an  hour  could  not  see 
what  we  were  doing. 

It  was  now  mid-day,  and  the  chain  of 
islands  was  in  sight.  We  had  calculated 
very  closely  the  position  of  the  one  we 
were  seeking  ;  but  our  casks  retarded  our 
speed  so  that  we  would  reach  it  later  than 
we  expected.  At  mid-day  another  obser- 


246  STORIES   OF   THE   SEA 

vation  was  taken  and  our  island  located 
exactly — about  fifteen  miles  distant.  As 
we  approached  it  our  signal  flag  —  the 
large  white  one  with  a  red  cross  —  was 
hoisted  to  the  top  of  the  main-mast.  Some 
time  elapsed  and  no  sign  of  any  living 
creature  on  the  island.  We  were  more 
than  six  weeks  behind  the  most  liberal  es- 
timate of  time,  and  our  Spaniards  began 
to  fear  that  those  assigned  to  meet  us  here 
had  given  up  all  hopes  of  a  successful  voy- 
age and  had  gone  to  the  main-land.  Just 
as  the  gloomiest  views  seemed  to  be  about 
realized,  we  saw  two  men  running  through 
the  thin  undergrowth  to  the  water's  edge, 
waving  their  hats  and  gesticulating  wildly. 
A  shout  of  recognition  was  the  return  sa- 
lute. The  ship  was  sailed  to  within  half  a 
mile,  and  in  fourteen  fathoms  of  water, 
and  anchored.  The  four  boats  were  low- 
ered in  a  hurry  and  the  landing  of  the 
negroes  began.  It  was  wonderful  how 
many  could  be  gotten  into  a  yawl  in  the 


THE  LAST   SLAVE-SHIP  247 

quiet  sea.  More  than  two  hours  were 
needed  to  land  all  of  them,  and  a  suf- 
ficient number  of  large  sails  for  shelter 
and  food  supplies. 

The  carpenter  had  been  sent  below  to 
scuttle  the  ship ;  all  the  combustible  ma- 
terial aboard  was  collected  in  the  fore- 
castle, between  decks,  and  in  the  cabin, 
liberally  saturated  with  oil,  turpentine, 
and  paint,  and  as  the  last  of  us  left  the 
ship  the  match  was  applied  to  each  heap, 
and  before  we  were  ashore  she  was  on  fire 
from  stem  to  stern.  The  rigging  soon 
burned  and  the  upper  masts  fell  one  after 
the  other,  still  held  to  the  ship  by  the 
heavy  stays.  She  gradually  sank,  and  be- 
fore an  hour  there  was  nothing  on  the  sea 
left  to  indicate  a  ship's  destruction. 

As  the  negroes  were  landed  they  were 
hurried  back  far  enough  to  be  out  of  sight 
of  any  passing  vessel,  the  scanty  growth 
of  mangrove  affording  ample  hiding.  Af- 
ter dark  the  sails  were  so  spread  and  se- 


248  STORIES   OF   THE  SEA 

cured  as  to  shelter  the  negroes  from  the 
dews,  which  were  cold  after  the  warm 
days :  these  tents  were  taken  down  before 
daylight,  as  they  could  have  been  seen  by 
a  passing  vessel.  Great  was  the  joy  of  the 
Spaniards  at  being  ashore  in  a  place  of 
security,  for  they  felt  tranquil  about  the 
part  yet  to  come.  Immediately  after  all 
were  ashore  the  fishing  sloop  was  de- 
spatched to  the  main-land  with  intelligence 
of  our  arrival,  and  during  its  absence  I 
explored  the  island.  I  found  it  of  coral 
formation  and  covered  with  thin  soil  and 
very  little  grass.  Except  the  mangrove 
bushes  there  were  no  others  but  about  a 
dozen  cocoanut-trees,  stunted  in  growth 
but  with  a  good  supply  of  fruit  yet  green, 
and  highly  esteemed  as  a  delicacy. 

The  stay  on  the  island  was  delightful, 
the  waters  furnishing  us  with  a  great  many 
varieties  of  fish,  which  were  appreciated. 
The  joy  of  the  negroes  was  great  at  being 
ashore,  and  so  bountifully  supplied  with 


THE   LAST    SLAVE-SHIP  249 

food  and  water.  Each  day  vessels  passed, 
and  some  of  them  so  near  that  we  feared 
they  would  discover  the  island's  secret. 

Before  the  sloop  left  us  there  was  con- 
siderable discussion  among  the  sailors 
about  their  pay,  they  wishing  to  be  paid 
before  the  negroes  were  sent  to  the  main- 
land, and  the  Spaniards  desiring  that  the 
remaining  risks  should  be  shared  by  all 
alike  and  all  paid  at  the  final  destination. 
The  matter  was  compromised  by  the 
Spaniards  agreeing  to  pay  those  who  de- 
manded it ;  but  that  their  protection  ended 
there,  and  those  paid  would  remain  on  the 
island  until  they  were  sent  for  after  our 
arrival.  Four  days  after  the  sloop  left, 
two  small  schooners  arrived  bringing  the 
money  for  those  who  demanded  it,  and 
they  were  paid  in  Spanish  doubloons.  The 
negroes  were  now  transferred  to  the  two 
schooners,  and  although  they  had  ap- 
peared closely  packed  in  the  ship  they 
were  now  jammed  together  in  the  hold,  as 


250  STORIES   OF   THE  SEA 

none  could  be  allowed  on  deck.  The  of- 
ficers were  divided,  and  were  permitted  to 
remain  on  deck  in  the  little  space  that 
could  be  found. 

We  now  left  for  Trinidad,  about  sev- 
enty-five miles  distant,  and  before  dark 
sailed  right  into  the  harbor  amid  a  fleet  of 
vessels.  We  were  met  by  a  custom-house 
boat  and  told  where  to  anchor,  and  did  so, 
less  than  one  hundred  yards  from  an 
American  bark,  which  seemed  to  be  our 
late  would-be  acquaintance.  Our  schoon- 
ers had  the  appearance  of  ordinary  coast- 
ers and  did  not  attract  any  attention.  At 
ten  o'clock  that  night  we  saw  a  bright  light 
on  the  beach  at  the  extreme  east  end  of 
the  harbor,  and  we  sailed  for  it  Arriv- 
ing we  were  informed  that  arrangements 
were  not  complete  for  transportation,  and 
could  not  be  before  next  night.  We  re- 
turned to  our  anchorage  and  kept  busy  all 
night  distributing  biscuits  and  water  to 
the  negroes,  who  were  hungry  and  restless. 


THE   LAST   SLAVE-SHIP  251 

The  night  air  was  cold,  and  to  keep  warm 
I  stood  in  the  open  hatch  with  my  chin  on 
a  level  with  the  deck,  keeping  my  body  in 
the  warm  air  below  while  I  breathed  pure 
air  ;  to  go  below  and  remain  a  few  min- 
utes was  terrible.  I  feared  some  of  the 
negroes  would  die  in  such  an  impure  at- 
mosphere. 

Morning  came  slowly,  and  again  every 
care  was  taken  not  to  betray  in  any  way 
our  character.  Sail  after  sail  passed  us 
coming  and  going.  What  a  long  day  ! 
The  city  of  Trinidad,  starting  from  the 
beach,  rises  to  quite  a  height;  the  old- 
fashioned  houses  and  irregular  streets  had 
very  little  interest,  as  we  tired  our  eyes 
trying  to  find  something  which  could  pos- 
sibly relieve  the  monotony  and  sense  of 
great  danger  we  felt.  My  patience  was 
exhausted  long  before  dark.  At  last  the 
sun  went  down,  the  air  became  cool,  and 
night  again  obscured  everything.  At  ten 
o'clock  the  light  reappeared  and  we  sailed 


252 


STORIES   OF  THE   SEA 


for  it,  showing  a  single  lantern,  which  was 
extinguished  as  we  approached.  The 
sloop  ran  ashore  in  about  two  feet  of 
water,  and  the  negroes  hurried  ashore 
without  noise,  wading. 

I  saw  in  the  darkness  a  long  line  of 
wagons,  two- wheeled,  with  an  open  frame 
of  poles  and  cords  extending  around  the 
body  of  the  wagon  about  three  feet  high. 
The  women  and  youngest  negroes  were 
put  in  the  wagons,  the  framework  sup- 
porting them  from  falling  and  enabling 
many  more  to  crowd  in.  The  wagons 
started,  the  negro  men  following  us  on 
foot 

The  route  led  over  a  mountainous 
country,  through  coffee  plantations,  into 
the  interior.  The  travelling  was  slow  for 
some  time.  We  at  last  descended  to  a 
plain  and  moved  along  very  lively,  reach- 
ing, at  7  A.M.,  the  plantation  of  Don  S. 

B ,  which  was  our  final  destination, 

nearly  twenty-three  miles  from  the  coast ; 


THE   LAST   SLAVE-SHIP  253 

here  we  halted.  The  negroes  were  sent 
to  an  inclosure  to  be  fed  and  rested,  the 
officers  were  escorted  to  the  residence  of 
the  proprietor,  where  we  had  a  bath, 
change  of  clothing,  a  good  breakfast,  and 
felt  greatly  refreshed. 

We  were  seated  on  the  veranda  of  the 
residence,  smoking,  when  there  arrived  a 
Catholic  priest  and  an  assistant,  who 
passed  on  to  the  inclosure.  Shortly  after 
came  a  wagon  filled  with  clothing,  and 
being  curious  to  witness  anything  else 
connected  with  the  negroes  I  followed. 
Inside  the  inclosure  the  negroes  were 
drawn  up  in  rows.  Their  brands  were 
examined  and  they  were  separated  into 
lots  representing  each  mark.  The  priest, 
assisted  by  his  young  man,  passed  along 
in  front,  the  young  man  registering  the 
name  the  priest  had  given  each,  as  they 
were  baptized.  As  the  priest  finished  one 
lot  they  were  at  once  furnished,  the  wom- 
en with  a  sort  of  loose  gown  of  coarse  cot- 


254 


STORIES   OF   THE   SEA 


ton-cloth,  and  the  men  with  a  long  shirt, 
and  then  sent  off  in  different  directions. 
Dinner  being  called  we  returned  to  the 
residence.  After  dinner  I  returned  to  the 
inclosure,  but  there  was  not  a  negro 
there,  and  visiting  the  fields  with  the  pro- 
prietor I  did  not  see  one  that  I  thought 
had  made  the  voyage  with  us.  Don  S. 

B said  that  there  were  but  twenty-five 

of  the  new  arrivals  on  his  plantation,  the 
others  having  been  delivered  to  the  plant- 
ers who  had  already  contracted  for  them, 
paying  $350  for  each.  We  were  guests 

of  Don  S.  B four  days,  and  were  very 

hospitably  entertained. 

[Dr.  Howe  then  describes  the  difficul- 
ties of  getting  away  from  Cuba  without  a 
passport,  and  concludes  with  his  arrival  in 
New  Orleans.] 

We  were  again  in  New  Orleans.  After 
a  hurried  inspection  of  my  baggage,  I 


THE   LAST   SLAVE-SHIP  255 

jumped  into  a  cab,  and  passing  by  the 
telegraph  office  sent  the  following  mes- 
sage to  my  parents  in  Natchez,  Miss.-. 
"  Just  returned  from  the  coast  of  Africa, 
safe  and  well."  Continuing  to  the  Med- 
ical College  I  met  Professor  Howard 
Smith,  whose  joy  at  my  return  was  near- 
ly as  great  as  mine.  With  him  I  visited 
the  McDonogh  Commissioners  and  relat- 
ed the  history  of  the  voyage  to  Liberia, 
and,  as  they  asked  no  questions  about 
the  rest  of  the  trip,  I  did  not  say  more 
than,  it  being  impossible  to  return  as 
had  been  promised  me,  I  had  been 
obliged  to  make  a  very  lengthy  and 
troublesome  trip  along  the  African  coast 
until  I  had  an  opportunity  to  return  via 
Jamaica  and  Cuba. 

Thirty  years  have  elapsed,*  and  nearly 
all  of  those  connected  with  that  voyage 
must  ere  this  have  gone  to  their  last  rest. 

*  Written  in  1890.  The  author,  Dr.  Howe,  has 
since  died. 


256 


STORIES   OF   THE   SEA 


I  have  never  seen  one  of  them  since,  and 
do  not  feel  that  I  now  violate  any  confi- 
dence in  relating  the  history  of  the  voy- 
age of  The  Last  Slave-ship. 


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